


Wintertime Woes

by DoobleBugs, Pinkrhin0



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hornet needs a break, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pale King and Monomon show up in one chapter and it's a flashback, Tags May Change, Tiso hates being the voice of reason, Winter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 53,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22075261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoobleBugs/pseuds/DoobleBugs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkrhin0/pseuds/Pinkrhin0
Summary: With Hallownest freed from the grip of the infection and the cycle of the stasis, the old Kingdom sees its first winter for over 100 years.Hornet copes poorly with her first winter, Ghost finds an appreciation for the snow, Tiso is uncharacteristically sensible, and Quirrel really, really needs a nap.
Relationships: Monomon the Teacher & Quirrel (Hollow Knight), The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel & Hornet & The Knight, The Knight & Quirrel (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 423
Kudos: 1393





	1. Prologue - Meeting with Monomon

**Author's Note:**

> Mons: I didn't get any snow this year, sadly, but this idea wouldn't leave my head!!!! So I roped in Pinky to help and we had a lot more fun than I thought we were going to, haha! I hope you enjoy!  
> Pinky: Now presenting... The results of literal hours of hard work and shenanigans! Enjoy wintery chaos, an intentionally incorrect understanding of hibernation, and more jokes than you can shake a stick at. If you haven't guessed already, this is crack!  
> And of course, this is all bought to you by the esteemed Mons and the up and coming Pinky! >:3!!!
> 
> \------
> 
> Monomon has a meeting with Pale King about how his planned Stasis - his Hallownest Eternal - could have disastrous effects on the Kingdom

“Presenting the Head Scholar, Mistress of the Archives-”

The Pale Servant found himself being shoved out of the way with an undignified  _ yelp  _ by one of Monomon’s tendrils as she stormed into the throne room. “Pale King!” She shouted, Quirrel scurrying behind her. Both scholars had armfuls of tablets, tubes, and scrolls, Quirrel more so; Clutched tight to his chest.

In his throne, the Pale King sat up a little straighter. By his side, his Pure Vessel calmly watched the two, tracking their movements carefully. “I wasn’t expecting a visit from you, Lady Monomon.” The king said slowly to mask his surprise. “You could have sent a messenger.”

“Hey, call me  _ Madame _ . Only Quirrel can call me Lady Monomon.” She snapped, pointing to her assistant with a tendril. “And  _ this  _ is too urgent for a messenger!”

Pale King leaned forward slightly. “What is it? Is it about-” He spared a glance towards his Pure Vessel. “It’s not about the Dreamers, is it?”

“Partially, partially,” Monomon said dismissively, many arms rummaging through her and Quirrel’s tablets. “It’s related, however.” They both wore bags, and from inside she produced even  _ more  _ paper, stone, and written acid. 

“Stop.” Pale King demanded before she got too far with her unpacking. “Not here. We have rooms to discuss these matters.” Stepping down from his throne, he started towards one of the hallways on the side. “Come, Pure Vessel. Monomon, if you were to be so kind as to follow me, and leave your assistant.”

Monomon shook her head. “Quirrel stays with me. He’s my top scholar and needed for my demonstration.”

With a quiet sigh, the king nodded. “As you wish.”

Servants scrambled to clean one of the private rooms for the King and Scholar. “Guard the door.” He barked at the Pure Vessel, who dutifully stood right next to the door like a statue.

Quirrel lingered by the vessel for a moment. “Should I wait outside with it? Er, them?”

Monomon shook her head. “No, you’re necessary as always, Quirrel.”

The King frowned and scoffed. “I know you have scholars of more  _ appropriate  _ blood,” The Archives were practically stuffed to the brim with nobility, after all, yet she still toted a  _ commoner  _ about. “I am quite aware you keep him around for  _ aesthetic  _ purposes, Monomon.” He said, a bitter edge to his words, “But you could afford to be a little more discreet.” 

She said nothing, but Quirrel blushed brilliantly, shuffling the pile in his arms to hide his face. The little scholar scurried inside after them, gaze fixed firmly to the floor.

Pale King sat at the head of the table, gesturing for Monomon and Quirrel to join him. “Now, tell me your concerns. Will this have any effect on our plans to seal the infection?”

Monomon dumped the tablets on the table - They were sturdy enough to take the hit, the table itself was more likely to be damaged - And sorted through them. “When your Pure Vessel and the Dreamers are sealed away, you said that Hallownest will enter a  _ stasis _ , correct?”

He nodded, subtly puffing his chest with pride. "Indeed. Hallownest shall last eternal."

Monomon's face darkened and her voice went dangerously quiet. "Do you have any idea how much of an impact your stasis will cause?"

Pale King frowned. "Elaborate." He commanded, leaning forwards.

She shuffled through the reports but kept her gaze locked with his. "I've been running tests in my labs. If you were to indeed place this kingdom in stasis, to stop time from passing normally, you will cause disastrous effects on Hallownest, the environment, and especially your subjects!" Her voice had raised from an angry mutter to a furious shout, almost shoving some tablets in his hands.

Pale King wasn't used to being yelled at in such a way, and he was absolutely stunned into silence. Snapping out of his shocked state, he silently looked at the tablets.

They were highly detailed notes about the tests Monomon had conducted in her lab using local wildlife. She had tested the passing of days, weeks, months, years, and even seasons in her controlled environments; and what would happen if everything  _ stopped. _

There were a lot of very unhappy faces doodled in the margins of those tablets. 

From what he could glean from the reports, plants wouldn't be able to grow or create seeds. Nor would any existing seeds ever sprout. Crops would fail. The creatures that were previously not in stasis but then put into one were incredibly confused, with their 'internal clock' being thrown off. They weren't able to perform basic functions properly, a strong emphasis placed on a biological function called  _ 'hibernation' _ .

The king had never heard of that before. None of his servants did it, his wife didn't, none of his knights, the vessels, and certainly not  _ him _ . "Monomon?" He said, pausing to think of the best way to ask. "These results would be more… Impactful if you helped describe this word?"

Monomon said nothing, looking at the word, then back to him. He could feel the back of his neck bristle with anxiety. Rarely did he come across something he didn't know. "... Hibernation. You  _ don't _ ... You don’t know what it is?" She asked, sounding incredulous.

"Well, no one here in the palace partakes in it. And I do not pay attention to the small details of my subject’s lives.”

Monomon pressed a tendril to her temple, muttering something incomprehensible. " _ Alright _ ,” She started with a sigh, “Well when winter comes, some insects can't handle the cold as well as others. So they eat a lot of food to store energy, then they find a nice place to rest. Their core temperature lowers, and their body slows. And then, for the rest of winter, the bug goes dormant. That is hibernation."

"I do it." Quirrel piped up, shifting the tablets in his arms to get a better look at the king,  _ almost  _ managing to look him in the eye. "It's really not that bad, all things considered. When winter comes, I get really tired and my metabolism goes through the roof."

Monomon lifted a tablet from his arms, showing a passage to Pale King. "As you can see, in my study with Balders, they were plagued with insomnia from not needing to hibernate. Many suffered, losing weight rapidly, and then died."

Pale King looked over the tablets on the table. Could his plans be...wrong? His brilliant plans to seal the Radiance away and keep his beloved Kingdom eternal, were they not so brilliant after all?

No, it was  _ Monomon  _ who must be wrong.

This ‘hibernation’ sounded unnecessary, no, it sounded  _ lazy _ . How had he missed an entire portion of his subjects  _ sleeping  _ through the winter? How had he allowed it? They were to work! The glorious growth of Hallownest couldn’t be slowed by a little frost.

Being denied their foolish excuse to dodge work would probably do these bugs some good.

"I understand your concern, Monomon." He said, tone firm. "However, I am lead to believe your results in the lab aren't applicable in regards to how the citizens of Hallownest will react to the stasis." He pushed the stone slate away from him. “These experiments were only performed on animals,  _ they  _ are of no concern to the Kingdom.”

Monomon frowned. Clearly not the answer she expected, nor wanted. "Your highness, I apologize for being so blunt but...you are wrong. I've spent every waking moment in these past _months_ dedicating myself to this research!" The hurt and anger in her voice was clear, with underlying exhaustion underneath it all. "And you're going to sit there, surrounded by months of work, and tell me _I'm_ _the one in the wrong_?!"

Pale King felt anxiety well up in his throat. Monomon was understandably furious, towering above him. Quirrel merely stared at him, waiting for a response.

He gave the reports one last look and swallowed. He did not need a ‘good’ reason to reject them; His word was law. " _ As I said _ , you have used common beasts as your test group. Not intelligent bugs, Monomon. They are irrelevant, and your research has no merit. I'm sorry. My plan for Hallownest eternal will not and shall not fail. It has been foreseen.” He pushed the tablets away, done with this conversation.

Monomon was  _ seething,  _ and Pale King couldn’t recall ever seeing her this angry. But instead of lashing out, she began gathering her tablets. “Let’s go, Quirrel. It’s clear when we’re not wanted.” She hissed, words dripping with venom. 

Quirrel scuttled out of the room, avoiding eye contact with the king and muttering something like “Thank you for your presence, your majesty.”

“Hallownest  _ will  _ last eternal.” Pale King said, trying to reassure them as they left.

Monomon could only glance back at his words, and shake her head.


	2. What's This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the stasis gone, Hornet realizes that something is very wrong...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinky: Hornet's never known anything except the consistency of Deepnest, the Palace and the stasis lmao rip  
> In other words...  
> Hornet in a novel situation how will she cope
> 
> Mons: Tiso, for the first time in his life, has all the braincells and he HATES it

It started with a breeze.

Hallownest rarely experienced much wind. The air sat still, almost stagnant, for the most part; Only shifting with the movement of bugs, only ever gusting if some far-off weather event managed to claw weakly over the mountains to bat at the Kingdom below, always fading before it could make any true impact.

But that was _then_. 

Back then, the air sat at a single temperature, day in, day out. The short-lived shifts never made any true impact.

However, the elimination of that stasis had _changed_ all that. 

First, they had to deal with real, shifting _weather;_ Driving rain and _booming thunder_ and strong, strong winds that whipped across the land, lifting the thick piles of dust and sand that had accumulated unchanged for years and blasting anyone that dared to open their doors and set foot into Dirtmouth. It wasn’t much better than the wastelands beyond the cliffs.

That seemed bad enough, until the wind started to bring other things.

A chill. A deep, blasted chill that sunk deep into the hide of any bug unfortunate enough to step into it. It crawled into every crack and crevice of a bug’s shell, seeping into their very souls.

And Hornet, well, she found herself facing this chill a _lot_.

Her cloak, tailored perfectly to withstand the rigours of Deepnest, did nothing to stop the wind as it cut _through_ her, chilling her to the core as she tried - _and failed_ \- to undertake her daily patrols of the Kingdom. Even the warmer parts of Hallownest fell prey to this bitter chill; The humid heat of the Fungal Wastes turning into some terrible, all-encompassing damp.

Where was it even coming from?

Hornet was not the _unobservant_ type. Other bugs had been known to give her _uncharitable_ descriptions, ‘obsessive’, ‘on-edge’, 'harsh', and other such things, but even they would have to admit, something was wrong.

The days were getting _shorter_.

She had hardly noticed it at first, assuming the wind-up clock she’d had 'borrowed' from an abandoned building to furnish the house had worn down, but soon it became entirely impossible to mistake. 

As the chill set in deeper, the nights stretched _longer_. 

It was _unnatural_. It was _wrong_. And most importantly, _no one was taking her seriously about it._

It didn’t help that no one would brave the cold long enough to attend the town meetings she kept trying to call.

“Seriously?” Well, Tiso was there. She wished he wasn’t, but he was the only bug that consistently showed up. “Again? It’s cold. This is normal.” She suspected he enjoyed heckling her. What a bastard.

“This is not. Normal.” Hornet brandished her clock in his face, the cogs and gears inside rattling under the force of her swift movements; “It’s three in the afternoon! And it is dark!”

He looked at her, confused. “Yeah? And?”

“The sun isn’t supposed to set until _seven!”_

Tiso made a noise like a hissing beast, slowly lowering his head into his hands. “We’ve been over this.” He gestured widely at the door, “It’s _winter_. It’s _dark_. This happens _every year_ , _everywhere_ , what is wrong with you bugs?”

“Uh,” Oh, Elderbug was there too, of course. But outside of affirming her ideas, he was as useful as a teapot made of leaves. “My friend, she’s correct, I’ve never seen this before, either.”

“Yes, you have! You can’t just _miss_ winter!” He pushed the clock away from his face. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re having me on; Cloth would vouch for winter too but you’ve got her fooled and she’s off getting ready to sleep somewhere.” He snorted, “She has this crack theory, says this whole place was… On _pause_ for a while. Kept trying to get me to look at _plants_. I have no interest in plants, they're dumb. Can't even move."

“That’s true. That’s 100% true.” Hornet said, feeling a measure of respect for the cicada warrior. “She figured that out just from the plants? That’s very- Wait- _Where_ did you say she was?”

“She’s off getting ready to hibernate, obviously.” Tiso said nonchalantly, with his trademark hint of smugness.

Then, he froze. “Oh _god_. You’re going to-”

“What in Hallownest is _hibernation?”_

“Yup. Damn it.” He sighed, “It’s like…Damn, I don’t know. I don’t do it. It’s just a thing some bugs do! They sleep all winter. Why would I care to know the _specifics_?”

Hornet digested this information. 

“You are telling me that this ‘Winter’…” She started slowly, “Will _freeze_ us, plunge us _into darkness_ , and inflict a _sleeping sickness_ upon us?”

Tiso spluttered a series of disconnected yet decisively foul syllables. “ _NO_ !” He stood up, “How did you even _get_ to that?!”

“That is the information you gave me!”

“But- It’s- You’re _just-_ Ugh!” Tiso stormed out of the Town Hall, letting the doors swing inwards as a frigid breeze stole its way inside. 

In the ashen light of the setting sun, it looked as if the ground outside had turned white, the dust caught in the wind pale and fat; Undoubtedly blown in from the corpse winding through Kingdom’s Edge. How strange though, to make it all the way to Dirtmouth.

He paused on the step, glancing back at the pair of them over his shoulder. “Meeting’s over! Sense is also, apparently, over. I’ll see you two next week I _guess_. I’ll bring a slideshow or something.” With those parting words and a grunt of effort as he fought against the wind, the doors slammed shut behind him.

“... It _is_ nice to see the youth so involved in the good of the town.” Elderbug murmured over the echo of the doors. “I don’t think this hall has seen such heated debate for decades!”

“He’s a fool, nothing more.” Hornet said, “But soon he’ll see things my way.” With a sigh over _another_ evening wasted, she pocketed her clock. “I need to get home to my siblings. Good day, Elderbug.”

“Eh? Wait, miss!” He hurried after her as she headed for the doors, “This cold is no good for me, would you mind walking an old bug home?”

Hornet glanced at him for a moment. 

While far younger than her, there was no denying that Elderbug was, well, an _elder bug._ And his home, if she recalled, was not far out of her way.

“Fine.” She said, unlatching the doors and allowing the wind to do the hard work of opening them for her, “But don’t-” 

Her words were choked from her mouth as a cloud of freezing white _stuff_ flew through the open doorway to hit her directly in the face. It was terribly cold and damp, and she immediately wiped her mask of the stuff, hissing softly in discomfort.

The whiteness she had glimpsed before… It was no trick of the light. The world outside was _coated_ in… _Something_.

Something cold and wet that fell from the sky in thick sheets and laid on the cobbles like a blanket, obscuring everything underneath like the fat pustules of the infection, coating the world in a single colour.

“What… Is _this_.”


	3. Winter Wonderland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mons: I'll admit I've never really had the childhood snow experience, but this was fun to write!!!
> 
> Pinky: Big mood, Quirrel. Big mood...

Ghost dragged a chair from the kitchen table, hopped up, and peeked outside. Little white specks floated from the sky, bleaching the landscape. They had only seen this in the Kingdom’s edge, but even then it was dull and grey. But these specks from the sky didn’t look like ash...or bits from a god corpse.

Opening the front door, they were greeted with the winter chill. Hornet seemed rather concerned with the cold and the wind, but they didn’t mind. They were naturally cold thanks to the void that they were made of, what was a little more chill? To them, it was practically  _ pleasant  _ out there.

The world seemed to be covered in the white specks, even more falling from the sky. Cautiously, little Ghost took a step into the pile of white. It was wet and cold, but also...soft. And kinda crunchy. But it didn’t seem to be dangerous. In fact, the best part was how Ghost wasn’t getting hurt. They’d honestly started expecting everything new to hurt.

Taking a few more steps, they grew more curious. What  _ was _ this stuff? Where did it come from? It wasn’t like the rain at all. And there wasn’t any thunder and lightning; they didn’t like thunder in the slightest.

Ghost reached down and picked up a small clump. Damp and cold it was, but also light. They squished it into a more solid form, creating a little white ball. They placed it back down on the ground, noticing it sticking to nearby white stuff.

They pushed against the little ball, watching in amazement as it grew and grew. After it grew a bit more, little Ghost made another ball, sticking it on top. They formed two horns from the stuff as well, placing them on too.

A little copy of themselves.

It was official, Ghost loved this stuff.

They ran back inside, shaking off any excess white fluff from their cloak. Going upstairs, they knocked on Hollow’s door, eager to share the fun. 

Hollow poked their mask out the door, tilting their head. Ghost grabbed their hand, trying to drag them outside. The elder sibling decided to humor them, allowing themselves to be dragged to the front door.

At the threshold of the front door, Hollow froze. They looked at the little vessel, as if asking for some kind of confirmation, and Ghost gave a nod. Hollow slowly reached a hand out to catch the specks, looking closely at them.

The white specks were beautiful, tiny geometric shapes with six points. Ghost let their older sibling take their time getting used to stepping in the white specks, then proudly showed off their doppelganger.

Hollow was impressed, circling the creation to look at it more carefully. They poked it, then looked back to Ghost.  _ Show how? _

Ghost was more than happy to show them how to make a little ball, and they spent quite some time doing it. It was fun! Ghost stopped, watching Hollow starting to build a little statue, then looked at the little ball in their hands. 

And they threw it at Hollow. Not enough to hurt, just enough to get some momentum. It splattered on Hollow's shoulder, exploding into the specks that made it.

Hollow tensed up, staring at their little sibling. Then, very suddenly, they picked up the white sphere they were working on and hurled it at Ghost, striking the little vessel in the mask with a painless  _ ‘splat’ _ .

The two stood, frozen for a second. Before scrambling into action, rolling and throwing as fast as they could.

And thus a new game was made; Throwing this weird white stuff at each other.

\-------

Hornet was confused and horrified. Her hope was that this white sheet covering the street was just ash that had found its way from the Kingdoms edge, but she was sorely mistaken.

The white specks were  _ freezing _ cold and  _ damp. _ And they came from the  _ sky _ . 

"Oh dear…" Elderbug said, looking at the path to his house, the path already hidden. "I'm glad you're walking an old bug like me home, miss."

"... Of course." Hornet muttered, regretting her decision. "Alright, let's take you home-" She stepped right into a patch of the stuff, the cold enveloping her foot and sending shivers down her spine. Suppressing a yelp, she, as calmly as possible, started walking Elderbug home.

"Goodness! That's cold!" He whimpered, glancing down at the path. "It looks like I'll have to wear something if the weather continues like this! Er, how are you holding up, miss?"

_ "Fine."  _ She managed to squeak, trying not to shiver.  _ "I'm Fine." _

"You don't look fine-"

_ "I'm fine. Go inside before you freeze." _

As soon as Elderbug went inside, waved goodbye, and closed his door, Hornet  _ lost it. _

**_"WHAT IS THIS?!"_** She screamed, rather ungracefully hopping from foot to foot. "STARS ABOVE!"

Shivering terribly, she started walking home. This was awful. This was _terrible_. Is this what Winter brought to them? Bitter winds, horrible chills, and strange flecks of white that fell from the sky? What if it was deadly? _What if it was_ _poison_?

The cold  _ itself  _ could kill, she knew that, but a cold that carried toxins?  _ Terrible _ . 

She was tempted to ask Tiso but hated the idea of asking that  _ fool  _ for help. She'd rather freeze.

Quirrel might know, he was around before Hallownest entered stasis, so he  _ should _ know, but his shoddy memory lowered Hornet's hopes.

In her professional opinion, his time wandering had left him a little…  _ Addled _ . 

Where was the scholar, anyways?

He had visited the Pale children, claiming to be sick and starving. He did seem rather... Sluggish. Tired and slow, even as he ate. Quirrel seemed to be confused and apologetic for his behavior, claiming to catch a strange flu. He should still be at their home, but he liked to wander every now and then-

Hornet froze in place, not caring about the cold specks for just a moment. 

Tiso’s explanation still stuck in her mind.

What had he mentioned? A  _ sleeping sickness?  _ “Oh  _ Wyrm _ , this is bad."

Racing home through the dark, she found her siblings nowhere to be found, but that wasn’t what was on her mind right now. “Quirrel?! Where are you?! Quirrel-”

“ _ Living room. _ ” Came the tired reply.

Hornet burst in, finding him laying on the dusty couch, face buried in a pillow and surrounded by pilfered bedding. “Hello-”

“DON’T FALL ASLEEP!” She screamed, dragging him off the couch by the leg. 

Quirrel hit the ground, groaning with pain. “But that’s what I was about to  _ do _ .” He whined. “Why shouldn’t I fall asleep?”

“There’s - there’s sickness -  _ new  _ sickness! Winter -  _ freezing _ !” Was all she managed to stutter. Her mind was racing, going too fast for her tongue to keep up with.

Slowly, Quirrel blinked at her. “... Do you want to try that again?” He asked in a calm voice, crawling back onto the couch.

Hornet took a deep breath. “Tiso told me that in winter, some bugs fall prey to a sort of sickness. A  _ sleeping _ sickness. You’ll sleep all winter, or maybe _ forever _ .”

He chuckled. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re worried about me, miss Hornet-”

“-I am  _ not. _ ” She hissed quickly. A bit  _ too  _ quickly. “If you were to sleep forever, my younger sibling would be stricken with grief. I’m concerned for  _ them _ . And there’s another issue. Go look outside.”

Quirrel sighed, collapsing back on the couch. “Do I  _ have  _ to?”

_ “Look outside right now.” _

Sighing again, he stood up and went to the window. “... That is odd. Is it… Ash?”

“No. It’s like... Tiny chunks of  _ ice.” _ Hornet joined him at the window. “Or frozen rain. It’s _ awful. _ I came to ask if you remember anything about it. Anything at all.”

“... It’s snow.” Quirrel slurred, yawning mid-sentence. “But that’s all I remember.” His hand came up to rub at his face absently as he thought. “It’s harmless, at any rate.”

“ _ Harmless _ ? Look closer! They’re glyphs! Who knows what they could mean?”

“I think the technical term is  _ ‘snowflake’ _ .” He squinted, tapping the glass window. “Say, are those your siblings out there, making little snow sculptures and throwing snowballs at each other?”

“Are they  _ what _ ?”

“That’s what bugs do with snow…” He rubbed his face tiredly, “Look, you can  _ just  _ see them past the lanterns.”

Hornet squinted through the window, rubbing away a layer of water that had formed over the glass as they spoke. 

There, under the streetlights, her siblings were wildly flinging chunks of snow at each other, dodging between eery white  _ sculptures  _ of the stuff; Formed into lumpy mockeries of themselves and others. 

She could even see a copy of her  _ own  _ sweeping horns out there amongst the drifts. 

“Oh no. No, no, no, no…” What were they  _ thinking _ ? They didn’t know anything about this stuff! It could- Oh  _ Wyrm _ , what if it could animate? They didn’t know that it  _ wouldn’t _ !

Hornet bolted for the door, leaving Quirrel to sink back into the nest of blankets he’d built for himself.

She ignored the faint  _ “Bye…….” _ From behind, feet slipping on the frozen front step, the cold clawing back through her shell mere seconds after she had warmed.

“Stop it! Both of you!  _ Get back in the house _ !!”


	4. Winter Instincts (Quirrel Finally Snaps)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mons: I ACCIDENTALLY SKIPPED TO THE NEXT CHAPTER SORRY GUYS
> 
> Pinky: We made an oops and posted the next chapter instead of this one, but the escalation of events is a leeeeetle predictable from here, so to say, so it's fine  
> Think of it as a freebie!

“I am  _ very  _ disappointed.”

Ghost and Hollow both looked at her unrepentantly from where they sat at the kitchen table, barely even touching the hot drinks she’d made to warm them all back up, while Hornet herself found it hard to release hers; Her frozen fingers practically melded to the hot mug.

“What were you thinking? Wading out into this unknown… Frozen...  _ Symptom of disease  _ and playing with it? Building  _ effigies _ ? Were you having some lapse of judgement? It’s not safe!”

Her siblings seemed to disagree, showing hardly a lick of guilt as they watched her rapidly pingpong between guzzling her drink to shouting and back again.

They even shared glances when they thought she wasn’t looking. 

“Well? Do either of you have  _ anything  _ to say for yourselves?” Hornet demanded.

Well no, of course they didn't have anything to  _ say. _ The two simply shrugged.

Hornet glared at them for a moment. "I don't want to see you two messing with this  _ snow _ again, understood?"

They hesitantly nodded to her wishes, but when she went to take a drink, she saw them look at each other out of the corner of her eye. 

"Hey! I saw that!" She hissed, slamming her mug on the table. Ghost pushed their own mug of very watered down tea - They were running out of leaves - Towards her, and she accepted it without a word, taking a large gulp to warm her frozen insides. "We don't know what this stuff could do. Those effigies you made could come to life! It could make you sick-"

Hollow twitched a little at that. They had already made it clear they thought little of her ‘winter’ theories, her belief that the shortening days heralded something terrible, having lived long enough to experience such things before.

… But their experience meant nothing, of course! They were  _ very  _ sheltered.

“Yes!” Hornet dug into the crack in their composure. “Cold  _ kills _ , you know.” She took a breath, inhaling the warm steam from her second cup, trying to formulate her next sentence into something that wouldn’t alarm them.

“And I have heard…  _ Things…  _ About this Winter, and its effects on bugs. It brings a sickness. We must be careful.” The way Hollow bristled, it was clear they did not like the prospect of a sickness.

… Or the suggestion that they had exposed themselves to it.

Hornet put up a hand to still their worried fidgeting. “Never fear, I’ve been informed it only infects  _ certain  _ kinds of bugs, I believe we’re all safe.”  _ Quirrel _ , however… Ah, it was probably best not to mention that.

Ghost pouted, silently huffing and crossing their arms. They even turned their chair to give her the cold shoulder.

"I'm doing this for your own good, you grub." Hornet insisted, tugging on their horn. "And I seem to be the only one worried about all of this!"

Ghost just stared at her.

“It  _ is  _ something to be worried about, don’t give me that look.” They did not rebate, and Hornet found herself looking away first as someone started to move furniture around in another room.

“... Stay here and think about what you’ve done. I’m going to go check on your friend out there.”

Hornet followed the sound to the living room, normally she’d leave him to his stupidity, but it was cacophonous and  _ annoying _ and she didn’t need Ghost investigating and losing their head if and when he fell asleep.

She wasn’t prepared, however, to find Quirrel stuffing his weird blanket nest into the crack between the couch and the wall.

“What do you think you’re  _ doing  _ to my-” Something in the pile caught her eye and Hornet spluttered to a stop. “ _ Are those my clothes _ ?”

“I don’t know and maybe” The other bug looked as bewildered as she felt, stripping the cover off a pillow and shoving it into the gap as he spoke, “I don’t know why I’m doing this but I  _ have  _ to.”

“Oh, stars above.” Hornet pointed to the door. “Quirrel,  _ get out of my house _ .”

He slowly looked between her and the door, and started to clamber onto the couch. “...No.”

“What do you mean,  _ no _ ?”

“No.” And with that, he climbed over the back and allowed himself to drop headfirst into the pile with a muffled  _ thud _ , disappearing into the folds of cloth like a stone into water.

“I- Wh-  _ Why _ ??” Should she go after him? What was the procedure for this situation??

Unfortunately, turfing Quirrel into the snow would have to wait, because her siblings had been attracted by the yelling. “I told you two to think about what you’d done.”

Ghost and Hollow shared another glance, before offering her a cup of tea.

Hornet took it, peering into the glass. It was nothing but hot water. They were out of tea leaves. “... Thank you.” 

Ghost poked at the blanket pile. “Ah- Don’t touch that! Quirrel’s in there. He’s, um. Having some sort of…  _ Moment _ .”

They inched closer. “Do  _ not _ . He’s finally snapped.” Hornet always knew it was only a matter of time before this happened. 

Unfortunately, her words had no effect other than getting Hollow interested, too. They carefully lifted one leg and inserted it into the nest from above, earning a muffled  _ “Oof” _ From somewhere inside. 

“Okay, that’s enough. Leave him be.” Hornet sipped her hot water. “... It’s late. We should all sleep, anyway. Ghost, come on now-  _ Ghost _ ?” For a second, she thought they’d disappeared, and briefly, she believed it too; But the little horns sticking out of the blanket nest were a dead giveaway to their real location. “Get out of there.”

The horns shook  _ ‘no’ _ , sinking a little deeper. 

Hornet felt the urge to pluck them out but, oh,  _ whatever _ . At least they were in the house; And goodness knew they would just slip back in  _ anyway  _ during the night. “Fine, stay there.”

Yes, he’d finally gone mad, but still… There was no chance in Hallownest Quirrel would be able to  _ hurt  _ them in there, right?


	5. The Chapter Where Quirrel Technically Dies by Human Standards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinky: I wanted to call this chapter "Pinky Proves To Be Weirdly Good At Killing Quirrel Again" but that felt a bit much  
> Mons: This chapter was oddly fun to write!!!! Pinky really shines in this one uwu

Hornet woke to someone shaking her silk hammock. She groaned, sitting up and blinking to clear the fuzziness from sleep.

Ghost was crying, no,  _ sobbing _ at the foot of her bed, trembling as they shook her awake. Their void tears rolling down their mask and staining her wooden floor black.

She only asked one question. "What's wrong with Quirrel?"

They tugged on her arm before running off, Hornet following close behind. 

Hollow was waiting in the living room for them, Quirrel laying on the couch. Hornet briefly wondered how they left their little blanket cocoon, but this was more important. 

"What's wrong?" She asked, glancing at Hollow. "Sleeping sickness?"

They took her hand and placed it on Quirrel's wrist. She frowned. "What is it? I don't feel anything- Oh. Oh no."

_ Quirrel didn't have a pulse. _

Okay, bad, but that didn’t  _ necessarily  _ mean… She shifted spots, sometimes you could only feel it in the neck, or the other wrist, or occasionally the thumb; But  _ no _ . No, she was getting  _ nothing at all. _

That was,  _ well _ , definitely not good. Ghost was inconsolable, bawling and clutching Quirrel's hand, rubbing their face against his palm.

He was so cold, matching the temperature of the unheated room perfectly; His wrist like ice and limp in her grip, his fingers splaying bonelessly against her arm as she moved; Floppy, yet twisting inwards with a hint of that rigid curl so commonly taken up by the corpses scattered around the old Kingdom. Was...was he  _ dead? _

"When do you realize he was...like this?" Hornet asked Little Ghost. In between sobs, they pointed to a mug of cold water. Had they tried to give him some hot water? Or, she supposed, tea? It was clear that time had passed due to the temperature of the water...He must have been like this for quite some time.

That, at least, gave her an idea. "Go boil water, and take Ghost with you." Hornet commanded, Hollow looking confused, but nodded. They picked up Ghost, who squirmed and struggled, not wanting to be separated from their best friend.

What was Hornet supposed to do here? She had never been taught how to deal with whatever sleeping sickness that winter had brought upon them. And if he truly  _ was _ gone, what more could she do?

Hornet grabbed Quirrel by the shoulders and started shaking him. "You need to wake up!" She told them. "If you’re dead, I'm going to find a way to kill you as a spirit!"

Quirrel’s head flopped back and forth upon his neck like a gutted puppet, only stopping when she tossed him back down upon the couch like a dead Dirtcarver. "I'm not giving up that easy-" She grabbed his arm and yanked him off the stripped pillows, Quirrel falling to the ground with a muffled  _ thud, _ hitting the floorboards shoulder-first. 

Hollow poked their nose out the kitchen door. "Is the water ready?" She asked, nudging Quirrel with her foot, trying to shift his limp limbs into a position that wouldn’t make Ghost cry the moment they clapped eyes on him again.

They nodded, handing her the old kettle. It wasn't boiling, but certainly  _ very  _ hot.

"Excellent." Hornet praised, opening the lid and pouring the hot water on Quirrel's back.

…  _ And absolutely nothing happened. _

“... Oh.” Okay. That’s. Fine. “Okay,” Hornet said, placing the kettle down on the floor, “We’ll just-” 

Quirrel  _ jerked _ , gasping in a thick breath of air like a drowning bug pulled from water and  _ shrieking _ at the top of his lungs; "WHY AM I ON FIRE?! WHY AM I IN PAIN?!  _ WHAT?!" _

He half stood, half knelt, staring around in abject confusion; Clearly still freezing cold and trembling hard enough to shake any excess water off, even after the impromptu shower.

There was the scrape of a chair and the rapid pattering of little feet from the kitchen as Ghost shot through the door, tackling them in a shell-cracking hug, nuzzling his tummy, tears gone as quick as they’d come. "W-Why are they...what happened?!"

Hornet heaved a sigh of relief, glad that Quirrel was OK... _ and then she got mad. _

“ _ WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE PLAYING AT _ ?”

Quirrel winced, a headache beginning to bloom behind his eyes. "W-What?! What am I  _ playing at?!" _ He asked, still incredibly confused.

Ghost stood in front of him, trying to protect Quirrel from Hornet's wrath. It wouldn't work.

“YOU COME INTO MY  _ HOUSE…  _ TAKE ADVANTAGE OF  _ MY  _ HOSPITALITY… YOU  _ TRASH MY LIVING ROOM _ … YOU IGNORE MY WARNINGS… AND THEN YOU DIE IN FRONT OF THE  _ ONLY  _ BUG THAT-” She glanced at Hollow, who appeared to be trying to untangle a blanket from the pile for the scholar, “-THEN YOU DIE IN FRONT OF  _ ONE _ OF THE ONLY BUGS THAT WANTS YOU HERE!” Hornet snatched the still almost-warm cup of ‘tea’ from the floor and chugged it. 

“What are you talking about? I- I was sleeping!”

“Ah,  _ yes _ .” She ground out, “Quirrel, that  _ famous  _ bug who’s known for sleeping  _ without pulse or breath _ , I should have realized!” The sarcasm was a little unnecessary, but she didn’t care. “You have…  _ Succinctly  _ proved my point about the sleeping sickness, so  _ thank you _ for that; But I am done with you. I’m dismantling your weird nest and you are getting  _ out  _ of my house.”

“B- But I need it!”

“ _ For what _ ?”

“ _ I don’t know!!” _ He complained weakly, “And- You can’t kick me out in this cold! I’ll freeze!”

Hornet shrugged, “None of my concern.”

Ghost, however, considered it very much everyone’s concern. 

They started to shiver, staring at her with their big, black eyes.

Hornet knew what they were doing. "Don't you dare."

They started to sniffle.

"I said  _ don't _ ."

Big, goopy tears started to roll down their mask and onto the floor.

She found herself unable to look at them in such a pitiful state."No, your crying isn't going to convince me this time."

Ghost stumbled forward, hugging her leg as they sobbed. 

"D-Don't cry, my little friend!" Quirrel assured them as Hollow wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. "I'm sure my death would be quick in the cold!"

This had the opposite effect, Ghost crying even harder at Hornet's feet. "QUIRREL." She hissed,  _ "Not helpful!" _

"But it's true."

Hollow tilted their head at their sister, giving her a disapproving _ look.  _ Then, they reached down and picked Quirrel up like a child would carry a toy.

Hornet did enjoy the scholar’s indignant squeaks of protest. But she did  _ not  _ enjoy little Ghost's sobbing and Hollow's judgemental staring.

She took another sip of her 'tea', trying to find comfort in its warmth, only to find it had gone completely cold. "... Fine. Fine! Fine. He can stay!"

"Really?" Quirrel squirmed in Hollow's surprisingly strong grip. "Oh thank you, Miss Hornet-"

"New rules are to be made, however," Hornet said, stepping closer. "Your nest is to be taken down and I  _ don't _ want to see another one made, understood?"

"B-But I  _ need _ one-"

"So you say. But you cannot come up with a valid reason for it. No nest, no sleeping."

Quirrel huffed. "That's ridiculous! You're not going to let me sleep at all?!"

She nodded. "If that is what I need to do. And finally, you're going to help me hunt for something to eat."


	6. Ghost's Ghift Ghiving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mons: Hornet's having a bad time but Ghost is having a glad time!  
> Pinky: Quirrel be cranky! But Ghost... Ghost be gifty...

“Keep up, Quirrel. I’m not going to  _ carry _ you.” Hornet called out behind her. She paused, watching Quirrel struggle to climb down a ledge, his exhaustion making traveling more difficult. Normally, she'd be horribly upset with how slow he was being.

… But it was rather humorous to watch him fall on his face.

"I can't believe you're dragging me on a  _ hunting trip _ when I don't feel well," Quirrel grumbled, climbing up to where she stood waiting and heaving himself dramatically onto flat ground. "And I'm not even the hunting type!"

"And I am not the  _ patient _ type." Hornet hissed. "We're just going to Greenpath, it's not far."

This 'Winter' had run their supplies ragged, being too cold for any of them to hunt for meat. And the pale children had never been the biggest fans of tea  _ before  _ they needed a hot beverage to warm them up, so even  _ that  _ had run out far too quickly. 

Hornet shivered, the bitter winds from Dirtmouth snaking their way into Hallownest's corpse. Caves were supposed to stay at some nice, consistent temperature all year round, but the old Kingdom was pockmarked with all sorts of openings; Ventilation and cartways and tramways and entrances and exits known and unknown, that the wind tore right through regardless. 

There was no doubt she could find some forgotten corner sheltered enough to stay warm, but that would not help them.

She had put off hunting, hoping that the weather would improve. But instead, it snowed. And now their pantry was practically barren, stocked purely with scraps.

“Are you cold?” He asked, sounding concerned. “You’re shivering. A-Are you alright? We could... _ not _ go hunting?” Quirrel asked the last question with a hopeful tone.

“You’re not getting out of this, Archivist,” Hornet said with a glare. She spun around, leaving him to scramble to keep up. “I haven’t had a decent meal in some time, we’re  _ going _ hunting.” Her stomach ached for  _ some _ sort of sustenance, she'd take anything at this point.

Hornet silently noted the lack of Vengeflies and Gruz flies, common creatures that lived in the forgotten crossroads. She wondered if they had gone to seek warmer caves…. Or perished. Even the endlessly strolling Tiktiks had disappeared, leaving nothing but abandoned shells and trodden pathways.

The sound of moving rocks tore her attention away from the wildlife. “...Quirrel.” She sighed, watching him start to move rocks around, “What are you doing?”

“Making a nest. I think. Before you ask, no. I don’t know why.” He replied, sounding a bit cranky. He had moved the rocks to create a little cave-shaped ‘nest’ for him to rest in, rolling a large boulder in place for the door. “Goodnight-”

“No, no, you are not doing this.” Hornet kicked some of the rocks away, reaching in and grabbing Quirrel’s arm. “I’m not having you die on me  _ again _ .”

"I wasn't dead!" He loudly protested before yawning. "I-I was having a very lovely dream, I'll have you know!"

"Was it about  _ categorizing samples _ or  _ Monomon _ ?" She asked, voice flat.

Quirrel blushed, looking away. _ "None of your business." _

Hornet dragged him along to the entrance of Greenpath. "I'm hoping for an Aluba, they're a little rare and hard to catch, but they have such a nice flavor when cooked." She told him, mostly talking to herself at this point. "But I'm not picky."

"I'm not a big fan of meat." Quirrel replied, sounding tired. "They're fine in emergencies, I suppose."

Hornet snorted, "Well, I'm not one to eat vegetables."

"Your loss."

The entrance to Greenpath was an abandoned roadway, meant for travelers. After the infection, it had fallen into ruins, overtaken by Unn and her mossy followers. When winter hit, Greenpath grew colder, yes, but otherwise seemed unaffected…

_ Until now. _

Hornet stopped at the entrance, Quirrel bumping into her. "Hey, what seems to be the-"

"Quiet." She hissed. "Something is wrong." Normally, Greenpath could be heard at the entrance; the quiet burbling of the water, the chirps and chitters of wildlife, and the plants swaying in the underground breeze.

But it was silent.

Taking slow steps into Greenpath, Hornet was shocked, quietly gasping.

Everything was  _ dying. _

The once brilliant emerald leaves were now hues of red, orange, and yellow, shriveled and dried up. 

Many had fallen from the branches, coating the ground below in a thick, dead carpet and obscuring the small plants and moss that normally grew in their place. 

The mighty thorn branches flimsy and grey, lacking their prominent red thorns. The natural foliage gone, showing the bare barks of the trees and bushes.

And potentially worse of all: no game for her to catch.

"Oh, stars above." Hornet whispered. "This is  _ bad." _

Quirrel dawdled behind her, rustling through the leaves with an idle foot. "I agree. I believe you won't be having tea for quite some time."

"You  _ fool!" _ Hornet growled under her breath, starting to run deeper into Greenpath. If she couldn't find any game…

No Alubas, no Squits, no Mosscreeps, no Maskflies, no  _ anything. _ They had all scampered off, hiding in places she couldn't find, or the cold had killed them for good.

She returned to Quirrel, finding him leaning against some ruins and trying to sleep. "Quirrel, I'm going to push you into acid." 

He grumbled to himself, giving her a quick glare. "So, how'd hunting go?"

"There's nothing here to hunt." Hornet said slowly, still trying to process the information for herself. "...we need to find a place to hunt or Dirtmouth is going to starve."

"You're going to starve as well, you know," Quirrel said, being less than helpful. He strolled to one of the orange leaves, plucking the brittle thing off the branch. Then he twirled it between two fingers, looking very smug. "You said it yourself, you're not one to eat vegetables." 

Quirrel took a bite, looking a touch surprised. "Oh! Crunchy."

Part of her - the rational part of her - told her that she should suck up her pride and her personal preferences and start gathering what edible plants were left. It was eating plants or having an empty stomach.

The other part of her detested the idea. She was from  _ Deepnest. _ And the inhabitants of Deepnest  _ didn't eat plants. _

Quirrel paused mid-bite. "Wait,  _ Dirtmouth  _ would starve? Why is that?"

"Because this is the closest place for others to hunt as well." She explained. "No one wants to travel deep into Hallownest for game.”

"What do you suggest we do? What about that Tiso fellow? He seems to know a thing or two about what to do.”

She hissed -  _ Literally  _ \- at the idea. “I’d rather  _ starve _ than beg Tiso for help. He’s a fool and I refuse to accept anything from him.”

Quirrel rolled his eyes, plucking another leaf. “With Greenpath not a good spot for hunting anymore, it looks like you will starve. You need to learn to accept help.”

Hornet thought for other options. Kingdom’s edge? Too far. Fungal Wastes? Half the food there was poisonous. Deepnest? Too deep and it was already picked clean.

“Let’s try the Queen’s Gardens.”

* * *

While Hornet and Quirrel were busy hunting for dinner, Ghost was also busy. They had been trying to get Hollow to go play outside with them for what seemed like forever; But for once, their sibling would not budge.

Hornet had scared Hollow enough to outright refuse to play in the snow again, despite the assurances that they wouldn’t get sick. They also insisted Ghost stay inside as well. 

For safety. 

But anyone that had seen Ghost with nothing to do knew there was  _ nothing  _ safe about  _ that _ .

And Ghost was bored, bored, _ bored. _

They couldn’t spar or practice their magic in the house, not after they accidentally destroyed a wall. Hornet was furious at them when that happened, even if it  _ did  _ really open up the kitchen, so to speak.

So little Ghost started looking around for things to do. They found a toy nail made of wood buried in an old chest, most likely forgotten by the original owner of the house. But giving the nail a few test swings made them feel too much like Zote, and the nail was promptly tossed into the pile of firewood.

In a closet, they found art supplies courtesy of Uncle Sheo; paints, canvases, clay. He had insisted on the siblings taking the supplies to ‘add art to the heart of the home’, but it was forgotten about. They didn’t quite feel like getting messy with crafts yet, however.

Ghost really should visit the Nailmasters soon, to say hello and see how they were doing.

Deep in Hornet’s room, in a box forgotten in her closet, Ghost found knitting needles and differently colored balls of yarn. They could recall Hornet telling them about knitting, and even teaching them some basic forms of stitching. She had started to make them blankets but found it easier and faster to gather them from abandoned homes.

It was better than nothing.

They sat on her bed, making little stitches, not quite sure where this would go.

But Ghost noticed it was starting to look an awful lot like a scarf, and maybe someone would like a scarf. Elderbug could use a scarf…

With a new goal in mind, Ghost worked hard on making a nice, warm scarf for Elderbug with blue and grey yarn. He’d certainly love it! Everyone liked warm clothes, right?

...OK, the scarf was a bit long when Ghost finished. But it was still a nice scarf made with love and good intentions.

They felt it between their hands, pulling at the yarn and allowing their fingers to tug gently at the knots, to feel the new texture the string had taken up under their guidance. 

They had  _ made  _ this. They were  _ proud! _ What a lovely feeling. 

Ghost went downstairs, heading for the front door. Hollow stepped in front of them, head tilted curiously.  _ What is that thing? _

Ghost pointed to the door. They had to get their creation to Elderbug. Hollow shook their head, reaching down in order to pick up the little vessel.

But Ghost was too fast and far too stubborn for that. 

Shadow dashing through their sibling, Ghost opened the door and ran out into the snow, heading for Elderbug's house. Hollow stood in the doorway, faltering between stepping out and staying inside, wanting to chase after, but too anxious to do so.

Their elder sibling watched them go to Elderbug's house and knocked on his door. After a minute, it opened.

"Oh! Hello, little one." Elderbug greeted, a little surprised. "What are you doing out in the cold?"

Ghost proudly presented him the scarf they made.

"O-Oh? Is...is this for me?" Gently, he took it from their hands. "Oh...it's wonderful! Thank you so much! I'm going to put it on right away-" And true to his word, Elderbug wrapped the scarf around his neck and smiled. "Thank you, my little friend." He was so much larger than them, to the point that the oversized scarf was just right. 

Elderbug's smile made Ghost feel so warm and fuzzy inside, and they loved the feeling. Their payment was a pat on the head and a chipper 'You better head home before you freeze!'.

They practically skipped back, still high on the wonderful feeling of giving a gift and making someone  _ happy _ . They could knit so many more scarves! Or other things! They could make so many more bugs happy! And when bugs were happy, the bitter chill didn't seem so bitter.

They thought back to the art supplies. Maybe they  _ were  _ ready to make a mess!

Hollow bowed their head, seemingly apologizing for trying to stop them from doing a good deed. Ghost pat them, accepting the apology.

The tall vessel pointed at themselves. _ Could they make gifts too? _

Ghost nodded and the two siblings got to work.


	7. Cores, of Course!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mons: Quirrel's gonna hold that over her head forever
> 
> Pinky: Vitamin poisoning...

It was fair to say the Queen’s Gardens had not faired much better than Greenpath. 

There was still  _ greenery _ , at least. But, while being so deep underground spared them from snow, it did not save them from the thick  _ frost  _ that coated the inside of the cavern; The humidity that once filled the air now covering the ground at their feet. 

It didn’t help that, on second glance, the surviving plants appeared to be not only non-edible; But not actually alive at all. The insides were as disgustingly  _ dead and rotted _ as everything else; Judging from the noise Quirrel made upon biting into one. 

“There’s still  _ slime  _ in my mouth.” He moaned, still carrying and gesturing with the leaf in question. “It’s so…  _ Bitter _ ...”

“You deserve this.” Hornet muttered, barely glancing at back as she forged ahead.

"See, here's what's interesting," Quirrel snapped, "I don't believe I do!"

“Then we will agree to disagree,” Hornet said, “Because I don’t care.”

“I haven’t done anything to you…” Quirrel frowned, then carefully slipped his hand into the hole he’d bitten into the leaf, extracted some goo, and flicked it at her; Aiming low to splatter cold and nasty against her leg. “Well, apart from that, I guess. If you’re going to treat me so badly I may as well make myself  _ actually  _ deserve it.”

Hornet stopped walking. 

“You know what? I’ve changed my mind.” She turned slowly, drawing her needle as she went. “There’s plenty of meat right here! I am out of patience, Quirrel, and I am  _ very  _ hungry; But I’ll give you a head-start. When I catch you - and I  _ will  _ catch you - I will gut and fillet you like a prime fish, and tell Ghost you ran away from Hallownest like a coward.” 

Quirrel swallowed. “...  _ You wouldn’t _ .” 

She bent her knee. “ _ Five _ .” 

“Ah.” He dropped the leaf, raising his hands defensively, “Hang on-”

“ _ Four _ .”

“ _ Wait! _ Wait, Miss Hornet, I let my temper get the better of me-”

“ **_Three_ ** .”

“Oh, dear.”

\---

In the end, Hornet did not gut and fillet Quirrel. That would make Ghost  _ very  _ sad, after all, but that didn’t stop her from squeezing an apology out of him.

The whole episode had eased her frustrations somewhat, but it didn’t change the fact that the Queen’s Gardens were empty and bare. No plants meant no game, either; Hornet kept her eyes open and needle at the ready, but found nothing.

“Everything is dead.” Hornet kicked a rock. “There’s nothing to eat, nowhere to hunt, we’re going to starve!” What was she to do?

“...There’s always Fog Canyon?” The scholar muttered from where she’d left him; Sitting atop a bolder with his knees folded beneath him.

She spun, pointing her weapon. “What did I tell you?”

“To ‘ _ sit on this rock and think about what I’ve done _ ’, yes, yes.” Quirrel sighed, sounding too tired to care about her wrath. “However, Fog Canyon is a better bet than here, don’t you think?”

“Oh,  _ yes _ ,” Hornet’s words were equally sarcastic and venomous, “And what, exactly, will we eat there?”

“Um..?” He blinked, “Uoma, of course?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, they’re clearly poisonous.” 

“... No, they’re not? The Madame bred them in part as self-replicating emergency rations-” He stopped, “Have you been avoiding eating them this  _ whole  _ time?”

“But-” She sputtered, “They’re bright orange!”

“That’s because they’re full of  _ vitamins _ ! Ever heard of beta-carotene?” Quirrel paused long enough for Hornet to respond, but all she gave him was a look. “...  _ It’s very important for the immune system _ ; Also, the infected don’t hurt anything that’s orange. The Madame was very clever in designing them!” He coughed, trailing off uncomfortably. “... We were originally planning for the Archive to survive with the  _ staff  _ intact as well, you see…”

“-And you’re sure they’re harmless?” Hornet cut in before the old bug could start reminiscing at her. 

“Yes!” He cried, before adding sheepishly “Well… We didn't quite get the vitamin levels correct… If you eat too many at once your skin turns orange, but it’ll wear off…  _ Probabl _ y _ … _ Provided, ah, you don't eat any more. Then you'll die. Vitamin poisoning.” 

Not promising. But, well, it’s not like she had much to lose.

…  _ Or much choice. _

“... Let’s go.”

\---

Fog Canyon looked much the same as their last destinations.

Orange and brown and _ dead _ all over.

Except, for once, some of the orange was not from the dead plants or the fallen leaves. Some of the orange sat in clear globes of jelly, floating lazily in place upon stubby little tentacles. 

“You want to avoid the taller ones,” Quirrel warned, pointing to one for demonstration. “They’re called Oomas, and they have the nastiest little habit of… Exploding.”

“... This was  _ such _ a bad idea.”

“Is it, though?” Quirrel asked, “I mean, watch.” 

He approached one of the globules of jelly, an  _ Uoma _ , and poked it.

It burst with a gentle bubble-like  _ ‘pop,’ _ dropping its little orange core into Quirrel’s waiting palms. He turned to Hornet, “Here, catch!” And tossed the core.

Hornet turned to watch as it sailed wildly to her left, not even coming  _ close  _ to arms reach, and burst into chunks against a rock a few feet away. 

“Hm…” Quirrel hummed, “Sleep deprivation has done  _ terrible  _ things to my aim.” 

Hornet snorted, “Seems normal to me. Sit down and  _ I’ll  _ do it.”

She approached an Uoma. 

She could feel her body getting tense despite herself, prey was supposed to  _ run _ , after all, and she was supposed to  _ chase  _ it. 

That was what hunting is. 

But the Uoma merely hung in place, adjusting its height with a lazy flick of those transparent little tendrils. 

Poking it didn’t seem enough, but not once in her life had Hornet gone out of her way to bother these creatures; Unassuming and potentially  _ toxic  _ as they were.

Her needle tore through the body of the creature as if it were passing through water; And up close she could see that it wasn’t the touch that killed it, but instead the loss of integrity that came with breaching the membrane, passing around it like a ripple through water and releasing the soul-filled insides into the air. 

They really were nothing but  _ animated bubbles _ .

She caught the core as it dropped.

It was softer than she expected, with a creamy, almost egg-like consistency against her fingers. 

“Now you bite it!” Quirrel called unhelpfully from the floor, “Do you need help with that too?”

“Shut up.”

“You just open your mandibles-” 

“I’m still  _ open  _ to gutting you.” She turned away to study it closer. It looked fine. It was food. She was hungry. 

The Uoma core tasted… Odd. Like custard? Or…  _ Meaty  _ custard? The strange sugary grittiness caught her off-guard either way, like someone had taken the savoury yolk of an egg and injected it with the sweetness of a berry.

Behind her, Quirrel swatted another one out of the air for himself. “While I wouldn’t eat these for every meal, they keep well; And they should last us until we find other sources of food.”

“...What about the Oomas?” 

He tilted his head, “What about them?”

“They have much larger cores,” Hornet said, finishing her core and smacking a second Uoma out of the air for another, “They must be more nutritious.” 

“Oh,  _ no _ .” Quirrel said, “No, those kill you.”

But she was already stepping closer, stalking her prey. "... But are you  _ sure _ ?"

He looked slowly between her and the Ooma. “Yes, but some terrible part of me wants to see how this plays out. Please don’t blow yourself up too badly.”

Hornet rolled her eyes. Did he take her for some  _ clumsy  _ warrior? “I won’t-”

“-Or if you do,” He continued, “Try to keep the explosion away from  _ me _ .”

Slow, careful precision was key. She still approached the Ooma, expecting it to flee. Ever so gently, she reached out with the tip of her needle, puncturing the membrane.

Hornet expected the core to fall, like the Uoma core. But instead the Ooma core fizzled and hissed, vibrating intensely as it hovered in the air for a second, before starting to rocket directly towards her.

"...Oh no-"

She  _ barely _ managed to duck in time before the core shot above her head, hitting the cave wall and exploding. That was  _ much _ too close for her liking.  _ She could have died. _

"Hey, watch out for that!" Quirrel shouted, warning her all too late.

Hornet found herself shaking, and only partially due to the cold. "L-Let's go back to the plan of eating you."

"What's wrong? Did the Ooma do  _ exactly what I warned you about?" _ Quirrel asked in mock sympathy. "Poor Hornet! Ghost is going to  _ love _ hearing about this."

“ _ Shut up _ .”

“I’ll save it for a bedtime story! ‘ _ Ghost, would you like to hear how your sister ignored me and almost exploded? _ ’” He mimed opening a book and flicking through the pages. “Oh! There’s quite the moral; ‘ _ Listen to Quirrel, who is very often right. _ ’”

Hornet threw her needle at him, burying it in the ground by his feet. “Be quiet, help me collect cores, and  _ never  _ speak of this again otherwise I  _ will  _ kill you.”

He seemed less intimidated than ever. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say…”


	8. Shit, Let's be Santa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mons: and thus begins the portion where 'Tiso has braincells and Mons enjoys writing him too much'  
> Pinky: Scarfs for everyone!

Ghost and Hollow had been hard at work, making little gifts for their friends. Hollow couldn’t knit with their missing arm, but Ghost had pulled out the art supplies from Sheo for them.

So while Ghost made warm, multicolored scarves, Hollow made paintings and clay sculptures. Mostly little paintings of scenery. 

The little vessel noticed that Hollow's works lacked...color. Paintings with whites and greys and not much else. They didn't match well with Ghost's scarves.

Tugging at Hollow's cloak, they held up a jar of colored paint to help send the message.  _ Maybe some more color? _

Hesitantly, Hollow picked up the green paints to add some leaves to their current painting. After making several strokes, they would look at their little sibling, as if making sure what they were doing was OK.

Ghost nodded, patting their arm to reassure them before going back to their scarves. So many friends, so many scarves!

There was Cornifer, Iselda, Sly, Bretta, the Stag, Tiso, Cloth…and those were just the friends in town! 

They had amassed a large group of scarves, but Hollow wasn't quite done with their gifts yet. Ghost asked - using gestures - if their elder sibling wanted help, but Hollow shook their head.

So Ghost held up the pile of scarves.  _ Could they give these? _

Hollow thought for a moment then nodded before turning back to their painting. 

Almost bursting with excitement, Ghost shifted the pile of scarves in their arms and headed outside.

Immediately they saw Elderbug standing outside, wearing the scarf they had made him. "Ah! My little friend!" He called out, waving cheerfully. "This scarf you made me is so warm! I cannot thank you enough!"

Elderbug looked down at the scarves in Ghost's arms. "Oh! Are you giving more scarves? You're such a thoughtful young bug. I’m sure your good deeds will find its way back to you!”

Ghost nodded, the wonderful feeling of pride from  _ making _ the gifts and the joy of  _ giving _ the gifts filling their chest.

First stop, Cornifer and Iselda.

Tip-tapping into their store, Iselda perked up immediately. "Ah! Hello there, little one. I've been worried about you and your siblings. It's been so dreadfully cold! Have you three been faring well?"

Ghost nodded, barely able to peek over the counter. Just a curse of being small, they supposed.

"It's been so cold, Cornifer has been forced to stay inside!" Iselda continued, more than used to each other's one-sided conversations. "I'm happy he's home safe and warm, however. Even if he's going a little stir crazy." She leaned closer to whisper, "He's downstairs, trying to make miniature models of his maps."

Ghost nodded, sympathetic to both Cornifer and Iselda.

"But what can I help you with, sweetie? You've bought all our maps, and I'm afraid we don't have any tea for our little get-togethers."

They sorted through their pile of scarves, setting one on the counter and scooting it closer to her. 

Iselda gasped, taking it in her hands. "Is...is this for  _ me?  _ Oh! Oh, you made me a gift!" She cooed, wrapping the pink and yellow scarf around her neck. "This so thoughtful!" Iselda stepped around the counter, kneeling down to give Ghost a kiss on the forehead.

If they had blood, little Ghost was sure they'd blush.

They pulled out another scarf, a shorter one in orange and red, handing it to her. 

"Oh, another? Wait, oh did you make one for Corny too?" Iselda knocked on the trapdoor to the basement, calling down to her husband, "Corny! Little Ghost is here, and they have something for you!"

They could hear Cornifer climb up the ladder, calling back, "Coming, Iselda darling!" He stuck his head out of the trapdoor. "Ho-ho!" He chirped upon seeing Ghost, "Greetings my short friend! How nice to see you! How are your siblings? Good?"

"Oh, Corny! Look what the little darling made for you!" Iselda showed him the scarf, and after adjusting his glasses, Cornifer was just as excited.

"What? For me? Oh! You shouldn't have!" Climbing up fully, he asked his wife, "Oh, put it on me! Put it on me!"

The two chittered happily as they discussed their new scarves before turning to Ghost.

"Oh, you're just the most thoughtful little thing!" Iselda sighed, patting their head.

"How can we repay you?" Cornifer asked expectantly.

Ghost shook their head. No payment needed nor wanted. The smiles on their faces was payment enough.

The two waved goodbye, thanking little Ghost again and again as they went to the next house.

Ghost knocked on Bretta's door, looking around the corner to make sure Zote wasn't around. They didn't make a scarf for Zote. And they didn't  _ want _ to make a scarf for Zote.

Bretta opened the door a crack, opening it a bit more when she saw them. "Ah!...it's you. Hello there. What are you doing in the cold? It's awful out there!"

Ghost silently handed her a purple and blue scarf. Her eyes lit up. "You… Made me that? You made… Plain, little Bretta… A gift?"

They nodded and she took it. After a moment of staring, she closed the door right in their face.

Well, that's not the reaction Ghost expected. But they were used to being ignored by Bretta. She'd probably say Zote made it for her, her 'precious Grey Prince''.

Just as they turned to leave, she opened the door again, wearing their scarf. "I-I don't have much to give you… But here. Take it." She said, gently shoving a handmade candle into their chest. "For you! The least I can do. Thank you again."

She shut the door again, leaving Ghost to stare at the candle she gave them. It smelled like flowers and was very well made. It felt… Nice… To get a gift of their own.

They tucked the candle into their cloak, heading into the Stag Station.

Ghost had felt bad asking the Stag to take them places in this cold. They were so old, and their joints got so cold. 

Maybe a scarf could help! At least, that's what Ghost hoped.

Ringing the bell, they felt the ground tremble as the Stag raced down the Stagways to greet them.

The Stag huffed and puffed, lifting their large head to see them. "My friend! Have you been enjoying the cold? I for one, am not a fan. But I am always happy to take you-"

Ghost shook their head. They didn't want to go anywhere today.

"Oh? What do you need, little one?"

The little vessel pulled out a very,  _ very _ long green and blue scarf and stepped down off the platform. They wrapped the scarf around the Stag’s legs, taking care to wrap it in such a way so he wouldn't trip or be tangled up. There was even enough length left to wrap once around the Stag’s neck, ensuring it wouldn’t fall off. 

They hoped the Stag Nest was warm enough. Maybe… Maybe. They hoped the Stag would come into town if it wasn’t.

"... My little friend. Such kindness… For an old, humble Stag…" the Stag purred. "I cannot show my appreciation enough. Such kindness…"

Ghost hugged their leg tight, and the Stag nuzzled their great head against them. "Such a kind little one... You've made an old Stag very, very happy."

Their heart swelled with joy, and after another big hug, they left the Stag to give the next gift.

They cautiously sidled into Sly's shop. The last time they had entered, the small shopkeeper had attacked them to 'test their nail mastery'.

Ghost hoped to avoid it this time, and to their relief, they found Sly behind the counter. "Ah, the littlest Nailmaster comes to my shop." He croaked. "I hope you have Geo. What is that you are carrying?"

They pulled out the smallest scarf of red and gold yarn. There was very little gold yarn, hence why it was the smallest, but the colors and size fit the Great Nailsage perfectly.

But he didn't quite understand at first, squinting in confusion. "Are...You trying to sell that to me?"

Ghost shook their head, offering it to Sly. Again, he was confused. "You're...Giving it to me? Free of charge? No Geo? Why?"

And again, they shook their head. Still somewhat confused, Sly took the scarf. "... You confuse me greatly, little Nailmaster, But… It  _ is  _ cold… And one day I will repay you… Thank you for the gift, little one."

Sly bowed and Ghost bowed in return, quickly leaving the store before the old fly could try to 'test them' again.

Only two scarfs remained in this batch; for Tiso and Cloth. They hadn't seen Cloth recently, but maybe Tiso knew where she was, so they headed to where Tiso often hung around.

Tiso hung around the outskirts of town, claiming 'warriors didn't need houses'. Ghost had no clue how or where he slept. Or ate. Or...lived. Tiso really was a mystery sometimes.

Ghost found Tiso practicing his shield throw against a sculpture made of snow. "Ah, the pale thing. How are you?" He tilted his head, smirking. "Did your sister finally lose her mind? Go a little cuckoo?"

After a pause, Ghost shrugged. 

He snickered. "I saw her head down the well with the scholar. The chubby one, he'd no doubt get eaten on his  _ own _ . Anyway, I hope she wasn't going hunting! She's in for a surprise, heheh!"

The little vessel tilted their head, confused by what he meant. Hornet was great at hunting, wasn't she?

He waved his hand dismissively, smiling as if he knew a secret. "Oh, don't worry your little head over it! She'll find out eventually, hah!" Then, he frowned, pointing to the scarves. "And what the hell are those?"

Excitedly, they offered him one in grey and a yellow-green to match the colors of the Colosseum.

Tiso stared at the scarf and scoffed, holding it between two fingers in disgust. "A warrior doesn't need warmer clothes! A warrior keeps warm by combat! And training!"

Disappointed, Ghost reached up to take the scarf back, but Tiso clutched it close to his chest and took a step back. "Hey, no, it's mine now! Can't take it back after you've already given it to me!"

Ah, he  _ did _ want it. He was just trying to play it off. Trying to be…  _ Cool _ .

Ghost held up the one meant for Cloth as well - a darker green and a blueish-green, like the Queen's Gardens - and held it up.

Tiso frowned. "Giving me two?"

They shook their head, miming the action of hitting something with a club. After a moment, Tiso realized what they meant.  _ "Ah. _ You're referring to Cloth. She's hibernating somewhere. Said she'd break my neck if I bugged her.  _ Not like I'm afraid of her, mind you. _ " He quickly added.

Ghost tilted their head the other direction.  _ Hibernation? _

Tiso rattled out a loud hiss, sounding incredibly annoyed.  _ "I'm not explaining it twice. _ But don't worry, I'll keep the scarf. Give it back to her when she wakes up. Just… Don't tell anyone I've gone soft, got it?"

Ghost nodded, giving Tiso a quick hug - ignoring his irritated grumbles and growls - before they ran back home to make more scarves.


	9. Ancient Knowledge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinky: I've always found Lemm's voice really misfittingly young... That tea must be doing wonders for his throat.  
> Mons: Oh fuck its Lemm Hollow Knight!!!!

The Uoma cores, while definitely lifesavers in such lean times, were far, far too small to make up good meals individually. 

You had to eat a _lot_ of them to fill up. 

Hornet knew this because she had tested it. 

She had tested it by eating Uoma until she couldn’t eat any more. Her limit was four; any more and she'd be sick due to how weirdly sweet they were.

For science, of course. 

Regardless, they would need to gather _hundreds_ to feed Dirtmouth for even a few days; A difficult task when they had come equipped to carry _large prey_ , as opposed to lots and lots of fragile little balls.

And so, Hornet found herself _weaving_.

She didn’t have a loom, or the materials to make anything _truly_ complex, but she had silk and an _abundance_ of wood; More than enough to throw together some simple baskets, two for her, one for Quirrel. 

She _would_ have made two for him, but he’d fallen asleep while she was working and had to be kicked awake, and in all honesty she didn’t want to do that twice. 

_Filling_ the baskets turned out to be a task within themselves. The Uoma needed to be approached and burst _individually_ , and the core carefully caught and placed, as any drop too high caused it to splatter.

In other words: _It took hours._

Oh yes, Monomon was _very_ clever creating an animal purely to use as rations, but she had made them as fragile as broken glass and the core easier to ruin than anything Hornet had ever eaten. It reminded her of the strange desserts her father would have served up when she came to stay at the castle, all those years ago; Chefs working tirelessly to whip up something colourful and sweet that would collapse into mush if you so much as looked at it funny. 

No wonder she always preferred to eat something a little more robust. Something a little more _meaty_.

“Okay.” Quirrel said, “We’re finally done. But as much as I would love to go home - _and finally get some rest_ \- I have an idea.”

“And what is that?”

“I know where we can get more tea. And, possibly, some more information.”

Tea sounded nice. Fog Canyon was just as cold as the other places, and Hornet had a sneaking suspicion that even the acid lakes and pools had frozen over; not like she planned on testing _that._

And information was always valuable.

“And _where_ do you plan on getting these, exactly?”

Quirrel mumbled, nervously tapping his fingers together, “Weeellll, there _is_ Lemm in the City of Tears. He’s a historian, specializing in _old Hallownest_. Maybe he’d have some information on how the citizens used to survive winter?”

Ugh. _Lemm._ What an annoyance.

"I doubt he knows _anything_ we don't." Hornet muttered, "We don't need his help."

"Yes, we do." Quirrel said, "Also, he has a monopoly on all the _good_ tea."

“You mean something _other_ than watered-down weeds?” She asked sarcastically. 

"Yes, it turns out there were a _lot_ of fancy tea shops back in Hallownest's heyday; And I'm of the impression he's raided them _all_." Quirrel sighed, "Although I doubt he'll part with anything for free. We'll need to trade info or relics."

He looked down at his basket. “... Or food?”

Hornet put up a hand. “We are _not_ trading these away.” 

“Well, it’s not like we have any relics.” Quirrel huffed, before giving a small chuckle, “Apart from ourselves, I suppose, and he’s not interested in buying _people_.”

He paused, bringing a finger to his chin. “Unless…”

“ _Unless_..?”

“How much do you remember about your father?”

Hornet lurched to a stop. “No.”

“But-”

“ _Absolutely not._ ” She would not discuss the Pale King with _anyone_ , let alone some nosey historian. She’d hardly spoken to Lemm, but it was clear he’d want to milk every detail out of her, no matter how small. “Not for all the tea in the world. You like the sound of your own voice so much, you tell him about _your_ past. Blabber about Monomon, or something. You certainly talk about her _a lot_ in your sleep.”

“... Miss Hornet I'm _still_ an amnesiac. I cannot stress how little I consciously remember; My recollection ability is comparable to the flying abilities of a Gruz Fly without wings.” He shuffled the basket, “Not just in regards to the past, but day-to-day, too. I haven’t known what day it is for weeks and at this point I’m a little afraid to ask.”

“... Why are you afraid to ask?”

“Well, what if it’s a Monday?” 

“I think the wastelands took more of your mind than you’re willing to admit.” She sighed. “If you’re _so_ insistent on seeing Lemm, I’d be willing to part with some of our game. _But if you mention my father-”_

“Yes yes, I know. You’ll gut and fillet me. That threat has gotten so old by now.” He hummed, “You need fresh material. Have you considered threatening to… Hm, I don’t know…”

“Someday you will annoy me so much I will eat you,” Hornet growled. “Bugs like you taste great _boiled_.”

“Ah, there we go. Let’s get going.” 

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Lemm was exactly where he always was, his shop.

Except… It seemed a little noisier in there than usual. Even as they came down the lift from the Storeroom Stag Sation, the stony sound of shifting artifacts echoed towards them through the empty city.

It only grew louder as they approached, any by the time they reached the lift up to the shop, it had been joined by the noise of shifting furniture. 

“If he’s doing…” Hornet started, “What I _think_ he’s doing… We’re leaving.”

“What do you think he’s doing?” Quirrel asked, reaching for the lever. 

“Something stupid.” Hornet replied shortly. “Let’s just get our information and tea and get out.”

They approached the door to the Relic Seeker’s shop slowly, peering around the frame expecting some scene of devastation worth the terrible racket, but instead coming eye-to-eye with Relic Seeker Lemm as he tried to stash approximately twelve King’s Idols under a carpet so lumpy and misshapen it not only appeared to have developed its own topography but absolutely had yet more relics hidden underneath.

So much for _subtlety_. 

The Relic Seeker looked positively guilty as he straightened up at the sight of them, flipping the edge of the carpet back over with a foot, arms still loaded with pale little statues. “ _You two_.” He said, presumably as a greeting.

Hornet blinked. “ _What_ are you doing?” 

“... Nothing. What do you want?”

“Lemm!” Quirrel pushed in front of Hornet before she could say anything rude. “Just the bug we were looking for!” He eyed the lumpy carpet as Lemm shuffled a little further in front of it. “... Look, I’ll be quick, winter’s come for the first time in a very long time and we don’t know a thing about it. I’m sure there were records about it. _Please tell me you know something_.”

“Also we know you have all the good tea, Lemm.” Hornet added, stepping in behind him. “Don’t be greedy.”

“Are-” Lemm sidled over to his desk and dumped the pile of idols. “Are you robbing me… _For tea_?”

“Yes-” Hornet started.

“- _No_ .” Quirrel cut over her forcefully. “We don’t have any relics, but we do have a lot of food and _maybe_ some good information? I was hoping we could trade.”

 _“Quirrel!”_ She hissed, glaring at him. 

“ _You don’t have to say he’s your father_ !” Quirrel hissed back, “ _I was going to share some stuff about the Archives, but if you want to take the floor…_ ”

“No. No, I don’t, keep talking.”

Lemm stared at the two as they quietly talked, clearing his throat. “Are you two about done? I’m very… _Busy_ at the moment. What do you have to offer me?”

“Food.” Quirrel proffered his basket. “My- Uh, _The Teacher_ engineered some of the creatures in Fog Canyon to act as a food source. I can tell you about their production.”

“Hm?” Lemm crossed the shop in a few steps and reached inside the basket, pulling out a core. From underneath his beard came a pair of glasses he used to inspect the core further. “Those little jellyfish were made by The _Teacher_ , you say?”

Quirrel nodded. “That’s correct! They were created as a self-replicating food source for those who worked and lived in the Archives, created with an orange core to deter those infected! Brilliantly designed.” He couldn’t help but sound proud.

Lemm placed the core back on the pile. “... Let me get something to write with. Come in, I guess. And _don’t touch anything!_ ”

“So, do we have a deal, Relic Seeker?” Hornet asked, skirting around the lumpy carpet.

“Yeah, yeah. I have a few old records of winter and related preparations. I’ll dig them out for you.”

“... And the good tea?”

Lemm frowned as he led them into the backroom of the shop. “Why are you so insistent with my tea, young lady?”

“I’m cold. It’s warm. Apparently, you have _all_ of it.”

“Quirrel!” Lemm turned, “Have you been telling people I’ve been _hoarding all the tea_?”

“That implies you haven't been.” Quirrel responded, settling his basket by the door. 

The backroom, and by extension, Lemm’s living quarters, were just as much a disaster area as the shopfront. “You bugs just don’t know where to look.” Lemm huffed, “I have a _lot_ of tea, it’s true.” He waved his hand towards a little kitchenette, and possibly the only working plumbing left in the city. “You can take a few tins from- From the... Uh…” While Quirrel had gone mad trying to build himself a nest, Lemm appeared to have stuffed everything of value underneath things, the cupboards he was gesturing towards entirely bare. “... I will find the tins for you later.”

“Lemm… Are you alright?” Quirrel asked, hypocritically. “You seem...Distracted.”

Hornet snorted, “Well, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black.”

“I’m fine.” Lemm grumbled, sounding a touch embarrassed. “I’m… Reorganizing.”

“Ah, yes.” Hornet said. “That famous _under-the-carpet_ organization system. I have that at home as well.”

“I don’t _have_ to help you, young lady.”

“Miss Hornet, _please_.” Quirrel begged, “Just this once. Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not rude.” She corrected. “I’m brutally honest.”

“That’s just another way of saying you’re rude!” Quirrel groaned, “You don’t hear me saying I’m _‘brutally polite’_."

“If you two would like to quiet down, I have something to write with now,” Lemm said, pulling a clean slate from underneath a pillow.

Hornet _desperately_ wanted to ask why a slate was under his pillow, but a look from Quirrel and the promise of a hot drink convinced her to keep quiet...for now anyway.

"Several Wanderers Journals documented their winter routines." Lemm began to explain as he wrote, "Many discussed preparations _before_ winter; hunting and storing meats, for example."

"Yes well, it's a little late for _that."_ Hornet said, the lack of game in Greenpath and the Queen's Gardens still stung.

"I'm aware and I'm getting to that. You youngsters need to learn some _manners."_ Lemm pointed his quill at her accusingly.

Hornet bristled. _"I'm older than you."_ She hissed under her breath.

"The more useful journals and documents, I believe, are going to be where to gather edible plants and how to cook them." He started listing plants and where to find them. "Some mushrooms from the Fungal Wastes, the pale ferns from Kingdom's Edge, special roots in Deepnest, and apparently deep inside Greenpath, the thorn branches will sprout berries."

"Excellent! Thank you so much, Lemm." Quirrel praised.

Hornet was less enthusiastic as she skimmed the list over. "Yes, that is nice… What about _meat?"_

Lemm shrugged. "A lot of the accounts mention scarce amounts of meat. Many of the edible beasts have long hidden away to sleep through winter. Hibernation or something."

No meat? What was Hornet supposed to eat?

"There's always Uomas!" Quirrel suggested, trying to be helpful.

"I am _not_ going to live off of Uomas."

"Oh, well, good. You'd die if you tried." He muttered, glancing away. "Vitamin poisoning."

" _Continuing on_ ," Lemm said loudly to get their attention. "Your best course of action is to harvest these plants and try some hearty recipes. I think I found one or two stew recipes… Let me go check and get you a tin of tea leaves…"

As he left, Hornet turned to Quirrel. "What am I supposed to eat, exactly?"

Quirrel blinked at her. "... What Lemm just listed? Were you not listening?"

"Quirrel, I eat meat. I thought you knew this, with how much I joked about eating you."

He looked surprised. "You were _joking?!"_

"Was it not obvious?" Of course she wouldn't _really_ eat him.

"NO, IT WASN'T OBVIOUS!" 

"Look, regardless, I still need to eat meat. What am I supposed to do?"

Quirrel shrugged. "Start eating fruits and vegetables? Try some of the recipes Lemm's going to suggest?"

Hornet hissed in disgust, stomach churning at the suggestion. Or maybe it was vitamin poisoning.

Lemm emerged from the storefront. "Right, here's a tablet with a couple of stews-"

"Ooh, a stew sounds nice right about now." Quirrel muttered, taking the tablet as Lemm handed it to him.

"-and here is a tin of…" He squinted at the faded label. "Chamomile tea. It's not bad." He handed the tin to Hornet. "The polite thing would be to offer you a cup to taste it… But I am not a polite man. I've given you what you want, now get out of my store."


	10. Twinkling Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mons: look I couldn't not include Grimm he's great  
> Pinky: Grimm will look at a bug, say "is anyone gonna eat that" and not wait for an answer

Ghost and Hollow were starting to wonder what was taking so long. Hornet was a great hunter, so she wouldn't be having issues, would she?

Little Ghost thought briefly about what Tiso said earlier, but Tiso was always saying things like that; little things to get under their skin. He was just kind of a jerk sometimes, with a squishy, lovable interior. Hopefully.

Hornet had been gone for so long, in fact, that Hollow finished some of their smaller crafts and was ready to give them to others. Holding a few paintings, they looked at Ghost, silently asking if their little sibling wanted to join them.

Ghost shook their head no, for they had other plans.

As Hollow went around town, Ghost headed to the entrance of the Crystal Peak, a scarf tucked away in their cloak.

It was time to say hello to Myla.

Myla  _ did  _ have a house in Dirtmouth, but she was often in the mines. Ghost had tried to convince her to stop and take a break, but no such luck. She loved mining these crystals.

But Ghost needed her help for their plan!

Soon the clinking of metal against crystal and rock grew louder as Ghost snaked through the tunnels, and her signature singing became more clear. Before they knew it, there she was.

Myla stopped her singing when she heard Ghost's footsteps draw near. "A-Ah! Hello little f-friend!" She said, shivering from the cold. "What c-c-can I help you with?"

Had she been mining in the cold all night?

They reached in their cloak to pull out the purple and pink scarf, holding it out for her to take. “Oh! T-This is just-t what I n-n-need!!” She quickly wrapped it around her neck, sighing softly. “Thank you so much, is there anything I can do to repay you?”

Ghost nodded, using their nail to draw out their idea in the dirt.

Because the days were getting shorter, Dirtmouth seemed so dark and gloomy. If they strung more lights up, it’d be much more cheerful! And everyone would be happier! Myla and the other surviving miners had access to lumafly lanterns, and Ghost hoped that she’d let the town borrow some of the excess.

"Oh, that's a lovely idea!" She stowed her pickaxe and took their hand, "I'll show you the storeroom, this way! I don't think we can cover the  _ entire  _ town, but we can certainly help!"

The two passed several miners that survived the infection, but none of them were as friendly as Myla. They kept to themselves, mostly.

The storeroom was cold and the air was stale, with dozens of pickaxes strewn across the wall and carts littered on the floor. "I think they lumaflies are over here…"

As she looked, Ghost slowly looked around the room. What were they going to do with these crystals? What was their worth? Did they even  _ have  _ worth anymore?

As if sensing their question, Myla said, "These crystals used to be worth a lot...But now wandering merchants pick them up! T-There haven't been a lot of those though, recently…Things have been very odd!" She said, mostly talking to herself at this point, but Ghost listened eagerly. "It's been getting so cold! Thank you again for the scarf- Aha! Here we are!"

Myla dug out a wooden crate, opening the top to show the lanterns inside. "Tada!"

Not enough to cover the entire town, but that was still a lot of lanterns. Ghost gave Myla a big hug to show their appreciation.

"You're very welcome! Now, help me take this down to Dirtmouth."

Oh! But Ghost had an idea. They tugged at her arm, pointing at the crystals.

“R- Really? For the town?” She tapped her chin with a finger, thinking. “They  _ do  _ glow… And… No one will notice if we borrow a few…” Myla giggled cheekily, as if they were doing something naughty. “Oh, okay, sure! But we’ll have to bring them back afterward!”

She grabbed an entire cart of crystals with a hand, the other clutching some lanterns to her chest. “I can pull this down the rails, but I might need some help getting it into Dirtmouth.”

The cart looked  _ extremely  _ heavy, twice the height of the two bugs, solid metal, and full of crystals. Almost sensing their disbelief, Myla laughed again. “Don’t worry! I push these things around all the time!” She gave it a hefty little shove for emphasis, sending it rolling a little ways with a screech of poorly-oiled metal as the wheels moved for what seemed to be the first time in a  _ very  _ long while. “See?”

Ghost really hoped it wouldn’t make that noise all the way home.

“Y- You can hop on top if you want! Although I don’t know how comfy the crystals would be…” They shook their head at that. “Okay!” Myla grabbed the cart and started to drag it along the tracks, singing a simple tune over the screaming wheels as she went.

To Ghost’s horror, it really  _ did  _ make that noise all the way home.

* * *

So, Ghost had the lights. They had the crystals, which was an unexpected bonus, and they had a friend to help them, but there was still more to do. 

It would take forever for two  _ vertically challenged _ bugs such as themselves to light up the town, but thankfully, they had a solution for that as well. They knew a bug who was not only tall enough to help, but had experience with the distribution of lights.

They stowed the crystals and the lanterns, and headed for the ominous tents pitched at the edge of town.

It was time to see the Grimm Troupe. 

The tents never changed much between their visits, but in the winter chill, they had been rearranged into a tight semicircle, a huge, unnaturally  _ red  _ fire blazing in the Nightmare Torch in the middle.

“Oh!” Myla squeaked, “I didn’t know the circus was in t-town! Are we going to see a show?”

… Did the Grimm Troupe even  _ do  _ shows? Ghost had never seen one, but they only really visited when Grimm  _ summoned  _ them, so they weren’t sure. They shrugged at her, and waltzed directly into the largest tent, holding the flap open long enough for the little miner to duck inside behind them.

The two were greeted by the Grimm Troupe’s musician and right hand man; Brumm. He didn’t falter in his music as he turned to see them. “Mrmm...You again? Master is sleeping.” He rumbled, voice low. “... At least he  _ should  _ be… Mrm… Hard to do much of anything with that  _ noise  _ echoing about _ … Mrmm…” _

Ghost inwardly cringed.

“Mrmm… You bring… A gift?” He asked. No gestures were made, but Ghost knew he was referring to Myla. “Mrmm… Master would be… Very happy for such a kind gift…”

“Oh! Yeah!” Myla chirped, showing Brumm a small crystal. “This would be a lovely gift for your master! He sounds very nice!”

Brumm grumbled, glancing at Ghost. “Mrm… I’m guessing she is a friend of yours… In that case… You best tell Master she is  _ not  _ an offering for him…”

Ghost nodded, grabbing Myla’s hand tight. Nothing would happen to her on their watch!

Grimm was most likely in his quarters, he and his child would no doubt be asleep at this time of the day. Grimm often slept all day and did  _ who knows _ what all night. Nothing good, most likely. But Grimm and his Troupe never bothered anyone in town, so they were often left alone.

Grimm’s chambers were dark, with red curtains on every wall and pillows on the floor. He had trinkets strewn about, mostly on little shelves in the corners of the room. And in the middle was Grimm himself, hanging from the ceiling, eyes closed in what appeared to be sleep. Ghost swore they could hear the faint beating of the Nightmare Heart.

At the sound of their footsteps, his eye cracked open, spilling its own weak light into the room. “So…” He rasped, “My dear friend… You return, and you bring an  _ offering _ …” He dropped, gravity grasping him tight, flipping in the air to land on his feet without even a twitch of his wings. 

He dropped to a knee in front of Myla, extending a hand and deepening the croak of his voice to a stage-ready purr. “What a  _ sweet  _ little thing you have bought me. Welcome, my dear, I am Grimm, the master of this troupe.” 

It was all performance, it always was with Grimm. From the velvet smooth voice he put on for the crowds, to the glowing embers that split from his tongue as he spoke; His words laced with sulfur. 

Myla was enthralled. Taking the offered hand and shaking it with breathless excitement. “H- Hello! I’m Myla! We- Oh, I- G- Ghost wanted-” She tripped for a moment, “ _ -HERE _ .” Before folding the crystal she had bought into Grimm’s fingers. “The b- bug outside said you liked  _ offerings… _ ” 

“ _ Oh _ , well, isn’t that sweet.” Grimm examined the crystal with a careful eye. “I see now. Yes, I believe this will do  _ nicely _ .” He bowed to Myla as he stood back to his full height. “It is wonderful to meet you, Myla. Now, as for you-” He turned to Ghost, “I sense you aren’t here to ‘ _ catch up _ ’, as it were?”

They shook their head ‘no’. No, they wanted him to come and help! 

They supposed they did want him to come and hang out with them, provided he bought the Grimmchild along, of course. Since they had gathered the flames, the child had spent a lot of time back with the Troupe; “I must teach them,” Grimm had said last time they’d visited to see if the Child could play, “The role of Troupe Master may come naturally to me and my kin, but  _ toilet training _ does not.”

That struck them as a little ridiculous. They didn’t know much about babies, but… Well, they didn’t know much about babies. Why would you need to teach them what a toilet is? 

“Is it the  _ Child  _ you seek?”  _ Only partially _ . “Ah, myself as well? How  _ very  _ novel.”

Ghost gently nudged Myla forward to help explain, and Grimm watched her movements carefully, like a predator would watch one’s prey. “A-Ah! Well, y-you see, Mister Grimm, we, Er, Ghost! Wanted to, well, oh golly-" Taking a deep breath, she tried again, "Ghost wants to string lights all over town and we were wondering if you could help!!"

Grimm rumbled softly as he thought, squinting at the two. An uncomfortable silence fell before he purred, "I see no harm in bringing embers of my scarlet flame to your little town. Let me summon my kin to assist you two...And Myla? I wish to speak to my friend... _ Alone _ ."

Myla nodded, still stuttering and squeaking about Grimm as she left the room.

Grimm knelt down next to Ghost, mask cracking open slightly to give the appearance of a smile. "...I believe we've had a little miscommunication, my friend."

_ Miscommunication? _

Idly, the troupe master looked at the crystal Myla had given him, admiring how his scarlet light danced inside. "Normally, when my followers bring a mortal to me, I devour them."

_ What?! _

Grimm gave a raspy chuckle. "I suppose calling that little bug ‘sweet’ wasn't entirely metaphorical,  _ heh. _ "

Ghost immediately pulled out their nail, giving Grimm a murderous glare.

"Put that away, I'm in no mood to dance." Grimm hissed. "What do you take me for, a fool? I had a feeling you two were close, hence why I didn't act upon my instincts. I wanted to clarify this to you for future events. Next time, I may not be so merciful. Raising a child certainly works up an appetite."

Slowly, Ghost sheathed their nail. Now they knew better; never bring friends over.

And they made a small mental note to bring Zote instead.

"Speaking of my child-" Grimm opened his cloak to reveal Grimmchild clinging to his chest, quietly sleeping. "-as they say in the circus, 'Ta-da'!"

Ghost clapped their hands as Grimm closed his cape. "They're exhausted, the little thing. We practiced fire last night, tuckered them right out. I doubt they'll want to play." He croaked, closing his cape. "But  _ I  _ am happy to help. Come, let us light your town."


	11. For About Ten Minutes, Tiso Had All The Braincells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mons: I went a little overboard on this chapter.... *pensive*  
> Pinky: Tiso with the braincells what chaos will he spark

Tiso picked up a lump of snow, shaping it into a sharp point. "You think you're so tough." He hissed to the sculpture of snow resembling a Brooding Mawlek. He added the final lump of snow fashioned to resemble one of its many legs.

"But you're a _coward."_ He continued, adding rock-teeth to the top. "Attacking a bug from above like that…" Tiso absentmindedly felt his side, fingers running across the horrible crack across his shell. It'd never truly heal, a constant thorn in his side. Weakness.

Satisfied with his Snow Mawlek, he stepped back to admire his work. He kept his eyes trained on his foe as if it was the real thing. Reaching for his shield with a snarl, he extended the blades underneath. With a grunt, he threw his shield at his target.

The shield sliced through the middle, and the top half slowly slid off, collapsing into a pile on the ground. _"HA!_ TAKE THAT YOU MISERABLE PILE OF _PUS!"_

With his shell cracked, he'd most likely never fight another Brooding Mawlek again. Hell, he'd also likely never _survive_ another Brooding Mawlek. But this Snowy Mawlek made him feel better.

From behind, he heard noises coming from the well. And for a brief moment, he feared a Mawlek was crawling up to finish him off.

Then he realized that not only was that impossible, but it was also stupid for him to think like that. Mawleks couldn't climb up wells.

Out of the well shot Hornet's needle, sticking into the ground with silk trailing behind.

Tiso smirked. He had been _waiting_ for those two fools to come back. After retrieving his shield, he casually strolled over to the well.

_"Hornet, do I_ have _to climb the well? I’m exhausted-"_ Came a voice, echoing from the bottom. Ah, the pudgy scholar 

Another voice echoed a reply, Hornet's voice clear as a bell, _"Stop being a grub and climb up. I'm being nice by letting you use my silk to climb and not the cold, rusty chain."_

Hornet sounded annoyed, most likely a hunt gone sour. Tiso had _tried_ to warn her all those months ago, but she didn’t listen; Oh well, now she was paying the price.

_“Here, Quirrel. I’ll climb up first.”_ Hornet sighed, and he heard her beginning to climb up. 

He waited, silent as he could, watching for her pale horns to peek out before loudly shouting, “So! How was hunting?!” He heard her yelp in surprise and slip down the silken rope slightly to his complete delight.

Hornet was less than happy, however. Crawling out of the well, she glared at him, growling, “You act awfully bold for someone I found half- _dead_ at Kingdom’s Edge.”

“How long are you going to hold that over my head?” He grumbled in reply, leaning casually against the well.

“Until you save _my_ life.”

Tiso huffed, then noticed the basket she was holding, filled with orange spheres. “... Are you a mom now? Should I congratulate you or ask who the father is?”

Hornet sputtered, completely enraged. Eventually, she managed to angrily hiss, _“These aren’t EGGS you fool!”_ And she picked one up and threw it at him.

It bounced off his head harmlessly, falling into the snow and breaking into tiny pieces. He stared, scratching where the strange orb had hit him. "OK, those _aren't_ eggs. So what are they?"

"They're Uoma cores. From Fog Canyon." She explained. "Greenpath and the Queen's Gardens are...dying. There's no prey there to eat."

Tiso thought for a moment, then started laughing.

"I'm glad you think this is funny!" Hornet said, confused and offended by his reaction.

As soon as he calmed down, he grinned at her and stepped closer. "Hornet, do you remember several months ago, when we bumped into each other into Greenpath?" He asked, a smug tone creeping into his voice.

Hornet took a step back. "...I do."

He stepped closer. "And do you remember what I said to you?"

She was silent, curious but cautious as to where this was going.

"I warned you that with winter coming, that hunting was going to become significantly more difficult! Do you remember?"

Shaking her head, she muttered, "No." But it wasn't out of not remembering, it was of denial.

Tiso took two steps closer, and was sounding incredibly smug, "And I warned you! And I suggested that maybe you should start stockpiling and drying what you catch for the colder months! Do you remember?"

"No, no, no."

"Yes, I did!" He leaned closer to whisper, "And guess what? I WAS RIGHT!"

Hornet could only sigh and shove him away. "Shut up, Tiso."

"I was _right!_ I tried to warn you! I warned everyone I saw hunting down there!" Tiso shouted. "And I was right! Vindication is _so_ good!!"

"Are you done yet?" Hornet asked. "Are you happy now?"

Tiso nodded. "I am very happy! So I ask again, how was hunting?"

After a moment of silence, Hornet replied, "... Bad. It was bad. However-" She reached for her needle. "I do know about a big, dumb beast I could kill and eat."

Tiso's smile fell. "Don't say things like that, come now. We both know you wouldn't try _that_ so close to town!"

Her needle found its way dangerously close to his face, its tip pointing right between his eyes. _"Do not tempt me._ I have had a very, _very_ long day and I don't need another fool making it worse. I'm sure you'd have an interesting taste…" Fools from the Colosseum cropped up in Deepnest sometimes, trying to test their strength. They were sour, and with quite the kick if you ate the right parts.

Holding his hands up in to show he meant no harm, Tiso hissed, "Alright alright! I get it! Can you get your weapon out of my face?!"

Slowly, as if still considering her options, Hornet sheathed her needle.

"Yeesh! Someone's on-edge. Did hunting really upset you that bad?" He asked.

Hornet scoffed. "Since when do you care?"

"Hey! I care!" He snapped. "You're that pale thing’s sister. And the pale thing - er, Ghost - is… My friend." Tiso admitted quietly. "I ask again, did hunting _really_ upset you that bad?"

Hesitantly, she said, "I am just... Concerned. It was strange, seeing Greenpath so lifeless. We have the Uoma cores, but they can't substitute everything. Quirrel and I found documents on what to do… And I don't believe hunting is a viable option anymore, and I don't know how Dirtmouth is going to survive. I fear the town will starve. I fear _I_ am going to starve!"

"Well, I could have told you _that._ " Tiso snorted. "I tried to warn you! I've been _trying_ to tell you and the others. Thankfully, others _did_ listen to me. At least a little. But otherwise, we’ll just have to stick with the native plants for a while.” He said with a shrug.

Before she could reply, he quickly added, "And trust me, I understand how frustrating it can be. I've seen you around Greenpath, I know you live mostly off of meat."

Hornet was a little annoyed at the breach of privacy - the idea that he was able to observe her with her knowledge rubbed her the wrong way - but she nodded. "Right."

Tiso sighed, rubbing his temples. "I understand better than anyone. I usually live off meat as well. But a lot of bugs deal with winter differently; Some hibernate, some obsessively hide valuables… And others? Like me? Our metabolism goes _wild_ with trying to keep up with the cold and I need to eat _constantly. It’s a real nail in my side."_

"... Really?" She asked, not used to the fool being so... Knowledgeable on a subject. "I was wondering why you don't seem so bothered by the snow."

He held out his hand. "Here, see for yourself.” Hornet gave him a skeptical look and he rolled his eyes. “I'm not gonna do anything, warrior's honor."

Still suspicious, she reached for his wrist instead of his hand just in case he _was_ going to try something. To her complete surprise, Tiso was incredibly warm to the touch. "Wow, that's actually somewhat impressive." 

Although she mostly had her siblings to compare with, and Ghost and Hollow were always colder to the touch than the average bug.

"It's how bugs like me survive the cold. But I need a lot to eat for it to work; so when I started noticing the local wildlife start to disappear, I was worried too." He said, surprisingly reassuring. "But this isn't my first winter, so I spent the next couple days looking around for edible plants." He shuddered. "The plants in the Gardens above Deepnest? _Stay far away from those._ "

"Yes, Quirrel found _that_ out the hard way." She muttered.

"And for... _Whatever reason…_ This is Dirtmouth's first winter. Somehow. But I'm sure we're going to be OK!" Tiso said, sounding hopeful. "Especially with what your siblings have been doing-"

Hornet immediately thought of the worst possible scenarios. " _What_ have they been doing, exactly?!"

Tiso snickered. "Relax, nothing bad! Come here, I'll show you." Digging through the snow to find his bag, he pulled out a scarf. "The little one has been giving everyone warm clothes."

Hornet was stunned. The stitching was childish and simple, but little Ghost _made_ these? "They have been giving… Scarves to the others around town? All on their own?"

"They have. Your siblings have really raised everyone's morale. And while my bag is here-" Tiso rummaged through his things, pulling out some dried TikTik. "Here, I have a little extra jerky if you'd like some."

She had never seen this side of Tiso before. Hornet had always thought he was another fool looking for glory and combat. Perhaps he wasn't so bad after all.

However, when she went to reach for the offered snack, Tiso pulled it away with a grin. " _In exchange for a kiss_."

Nevermind.

The uncharacteristic kindness… The lack of gloating… Suddenly, Hornet saw his intentions loud and clear. 

Growling, Hornet turned away. "Just when you were being a decent bug… Quirrel! Where is he?"

"Ah, the chubby one? He never came up the well." The fool said as he munched on the jerky.

"Dammit!" She hissed, peering down the well. "If you've fallen asleep again, you're going to regret it!"

Tiso joined her by the side of the well. "Wait wait, fallen asleep? Is he supposed to be hibernating? And you're not letting him?"

She shook her head. "No, I’m not. The first time it happened, little Ghost was almost inconsolable, thinking Quirrel had died. I don't want to deal with that again."

"If he needs to hibernate, I think you should let him." Tiso said firmly, sounding concerned. "If you keep him awake, he's just going to get worse and worse."

"He'll be fine, Tiso," Hornet growled, ending the conversation. "Go back to playing with your Snow Mawlek or whatever you were doing before you started to bother me."

Hornet hopped down the well and Tiso sighed, shaking his head.

* * *

Hornet hit the ground at the bottom of the well with a thud, knees bending to take the impact until she was almost crouched against the ground.

Normally she would roll, or skid, or lower herself carefully upon a silken strand, but those things were all too slow for her.

It was inelegant, it was loud, it was rough, but she didn’t care about precision, not now, not while she was running against the clock; If Quirrel fell asleep before she found him, it would be hell to wake him back up again.

… _If_ he woke back up again.

Tiso’s words, as much as she hated it, made sense. If he _did_ need to sleep, she should let him.

Yet, Ghost’s teary eyes still _haunted_ her. If they found out…

No, she couldn’t let it happen again. 

“Quirrel?” She picked a direction and ran, “ _Quirrel!_ Get back here! You…” She needed a better excuse than ‘ _I know you’re going to sleep again_ ’, he would never come out for that.

“You’re carrying a _third of our food!”_ Nailed it. “ _You have my tea!_ We’re already heading towards starvation! Come back **!** ”

She needed to be clever about it. He wouldn’t go anywhere too hard to access. But where? 

She ran back towards the well, heading the other way. Maybe the Temple? Maybe he was stupid enough to sleep in the-

Tiso stood in the circle of light from above, next to an odd rock she had hardly spared a glance at in her haste. “ _Hey_.”

“Not now, Fool.”

“I wouldn’t bother, your food is all here.” As Hornet skidded to a stop and spun to look at him, he pointed to Quirrel's basket of cores, which sat in clear view at the bottom of the well. “Although they are by _far_ some of the weirdest food I’ve seen and I’ve eaten rancid eggs.”

_Oh_. Well. In her defense that wasn’t what she was looking for.

“Great, _thanks_ ,” Hornet said bitterly, “But I still need to find-”

Tiso kicked the rock.

“ _Ow_.” Said the rock.

With a less-than-gentle push, Tiso started to roll the ‘rock’ along like a ball; Eliciting more complaints from it as he went until finally, a seam split along the middle and Quirrel uncurled from his shell, practically tumbling out with an unhappy grunt. “Don’t _do_ that. Making me dizzy...”

Hornet blinked. 

The… The ‘rock’ was still wearing his bandana. He hadn’t taken it off. And she had run right past. 

“... Oh.” 

"Yup." Tiso said, smugly rolling Quirrel onto his front and sinking one foot into his back as if he'd just downed some beast. 

"As you can see… I know what I'm talking about." With a casual smirk, he shined his knuckles against his breastplate, "I'm telling you, you need my help."

"This is all well and good," Quirrel said, "But can you get your foot out of my shoulders, please?"

"Hang on, I'm making a point. You’ll thank me when I’m done, you watch."

“I don’t _want_ or _need_ your help, Tiso.” Hornet snarled. “Now kindly get your foot off my-” Would Quirrel be considered a friend? Erm… “...Companion at once.”

“Oh! ‘ _Companion’,_ hm?” Tiso teased, tilting his head. But then his smile fell. “I will...as soon as you start listening to me.”

"... Am I a hostage?"

"Yes, and hostages get to sleep so quiet down for a second." 

“... Well, that’s good enough for me.” Quirrel relaxed as much as he could with a foot pressed into his shell. “Thanks. I’m good here. Goodnight.”

Hornet reached for her needle. "Tiso, I don't have time to deal with your foolishness! What has gotten into you?!"

"I'm trying to help!" He shouted, straightening his posture to appear taller. "But you're not listening! _And I really think you should!"_ He hissed through gritted teeth. 

Fully unsheathing her needle, she snarled, “You _really_ wish to go down this path? Tiso, I will _tear you apart.”_

Tiso hissed in reply. “If that will make you _listen,_ then I suppose I am going down this path! Come on! Show me your best!”


	12. Tiso Almost Dies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mons: Quirrel dies part 2, electric boogaloo  
> Pinky: And thus, Tiso drops the braincells upon challenging Hornet to battle

Tiso had realized he had made an _enormous error_ as soon as he challenged Hornet. An error that could cost him his life.

He’d left his shield in the snow. 

Somehow he would have to avoid Hornet's attacks _and_ retrieve his weapon.

Difficult, but doable. He was a trained warrior, after all.

"Please tell me you two will leave me _out_ of this…?" Quirrel whimpered.

Neither Hornet nor Tiso replied, too focused on each other, waiting for whoever would make the first move.

Hornet shot her needle forward with a cry, aiming for his chest. 

Tiso barely managed to get out of the needle's path, tripping over Quirrel. 

_"HOLDONTIMEOUTIDONTHAVEMYSHIELD!"_ Tiso shouted, talking so fast his words slurred together; reaching for the chain leading up to the top of the well and beginning to climb. A cowardly thing to do, yes, but if Tiso wanted any chance of _surviving_ this battle he would need his shield. 

"YOU COWARD!" Hornet snarled, causing Tiso to only climb faster.

He scrambled outside the well, digging through the snow to find his precious shield. It was by the well, where did it go?

Just as Hornet climbed up after him, Tiso had found his beloved shield, immediately tossing it at her once she emerged from the well.

Caught off guard, Hornet wasn't fast enough to dodge his shield. It hit her _hard_ and she stumbled out of the well, clutching the side of her head.

"I'm trying to help, you know!" Tiso shouted, picking his shield off the ground and watching her stand back up. "You've never experienced a winter like this before! I have!"

"SHUT UP!" She tossed her needle again, and Tiso couldn't dodge it. 

He raised his shield, the impact of the blow knocking the wind out of him. Tiso could _feel_ the crack in his shell ache, even though he was successful at blocking the worst of the attack. _Shit, that hurt._

That _probably_ wasn't good.

When she tossed her needle again, he took a gamble, throwing his only defense to try to intercept. 

The two weapons clashed mid-air and fell into the snow.

Hornet had the immediate advantage, as her weapon had silk at the end she could use to draw it back. 

Tiso would have to run in and grab it.

"Can't you just listen to me?" He asked, slightly pleadingly.

Their fight had drawn a small crowd of townsfolk, muttering to themselves. Tiso was used to having an audience due to the colosseum, but Hornet wasn't. She was clearly distracted by the other bugs watching her, staring at the assembled people as if she expected them to join in.

He used this time to quickly run up and snag his shield. 

He had to end it _quickly_ , he was no fool; There was no way they were going to get out of this without collateral damage, and Tiso did _not_ want to be responsible for Hornet tossing her needle through someone’s head. 

Injury or no, so long as the crowd stayed distracting, he had the advantage. 

He had never fought Hornet, nor ever seen her fight seriously, but she seemed to rely on her range and maneuverability; A fighting style well-suited for the twisting tunnels and sprawling caverns of Hallownest but woefully unadapted for the open.

He could use that, Dirtmouth was no cave. Beyond the houses, she had no walls to take advantage of, no ceilings to anchor her silk to, she would be stuck on the ground. 

“Get back!” Hornet called to the crowd. “This is none of your- _Oof!”_ Tiso closed the gap between them within seconds, planting his feet in the snow and throwing his shoulder behind his shield for what could charitably be called a _‘tackle’_. 

He struck low, moving underneath the needle that was already coming up to intercept and smacking his shield _hard_ against her chest, the impact shaking through his shell painfully, winding her and sending him stumbling forward with the leftover momentum, keeping the gap closed as Hornet tried to move out of his range.

_“Now who’s the fool?!”_ He crowed, “Taking your eye off your opponent, _sloppy_!”

He couldn’t afford her time to recover, not while he was _winning;_ Dropping to the ground to sweep at her legs with his shield. 

It was then that Hornet kicked him in the face. 

“You’re _still_ a fool.” She coughed, reeling in her needle from where she’d dropped it after being hit, “Merely a fast one- _HEY_!” 

Tiso cut the silk, rolling out of arm's reach with a smug laugh, “You should invest in some rope.” It would be easier to avoid getting hit if she couldn’t afford to throw her weapon.

… Also, he _supposed_ it would stop her from flinging it into the growing crowd. 

“ _Face me properly_!” Hornet snarled, diving for her downed weapon, narrowly dodging as Tiso tried to intercept her with a shield bash to the face.

“No!” Was he cheating? Yes. Was he winning? _Absolutely_. 

_All’s fair in love and war_ , they say, and Tiso found himself fighting for both. 

A familiar mask popped into the impromptu ring, as the Pale Thing- Er, as _Ghost_ pushed their way to the front of the crowd. 

For s second, Tiso felt a mite of hope; Perhaps they were going to lend their aid? They were a weak little thing, of course, but a meat shield would be so, _so_ useful. 

Except, no. They just watched. 

Well, fine. He didn’t need them anyway!

The moment of distraction had undoubtedly lost him an opening, and Hornet had recovered enough for another round, but he had got some very solid hits in! _He had this one in the bag!_

* * *

Ghost watched the two fight for a minute before growing curious. _Where was Quirrel? Wasn't he with Hornet earlier?_

The battle was getting boring, neither of them seemed to be gaining much ground beyond pacing and posturing. 

Completely ignoring the fight between their sister and friend, Ghost turned and walked to the well. Besides, Hollow could deal with Hornet, they were good at that.

Hopping down the well, they immediately tripped over a basket of...fruit?

Whatever they were, they were bright orange. And they knew one thing.

_Bright orange was incredibly bad._

Casually, they took one of the baskets and tilted it over, the little orange monstrosities spilling out over the floor.

With that taken care of, Quirrel was next on Ghost's mind. 

Nearby the well entrance was a small pile of rocks, specifically arranged around a larger rock.

Wait, that rock was wearing a hat.

_Wait, that wasn't a rock at all._

Heart sinking into the pit of their stomach, they pushed the little rocks aside. They started shaking Quirrel gently, trying to wake him up.

But like last night, Quirrel was as cold as the corpses that littered Hallownest, and just as limp. _No._

Ghost shook him a little harder, tugging on his hat as well. _No! Wake up!_ They could feel tears well up in their eyes at the thought of Quirrel being...gone...gone forever…

The little vessel started crying, weakly shaking their friend, silently begging for him to wake up. Then, they rested their head against Quirrel and sobbed, pulling him into a hug.

The light from above was blocked by a figure, and Ghost looked up to see Hollow. Their elder sibling took one look at Ghost sobbing over Quirrel's body and turned back to the fight.

Pushing aside the crowd, Hollow stormed into the middle of Hornet and Tiso, interrupting her as she tried to break his shield over his own head, much to the confusion of the two.

"Hollow?! Get out of the way-" Hornet hissed, but the glare Hollow gave her shut her up _fast._

Before she could do or say anything, Hollow stomped over, picked her up, and slung her over their shoulder.

"Hey! I think that means I won!" Tiso called after her, spitting up some blood. He was definitely going to hurt for a _while_ after this. “Now you _have_ to listen to me, and a kiss would be nice. I think I deserve it after you took my own shield and tried to kill me with it!”

“The only thing _you_ deserve is a _shallow grave!”_

Tiso groaned, slowly getting to his feet and stumbling after them with a pained hiss. “Fine, fine! But you should listen to me! I _want_ to help!”

The crowd started to disperse, realizing the fight and free entertainment was over.

Hollow carried their enraged sister to the edge of the well, setting her down by the side and pointing inside it. “What?! Why did you-”

Hornet peered inside, seeing Ghost sobbing over where she and Tiso had left Quirrel while they fought. The little vessel had placed a delicate flower over their friend’s body - Where in Hallownest did they get one of _those?!_ \- And were in the process of mourning.

“What are we looking at?” Tiso asked as he joined them, uninvited. “Ah! Looks like your ‘companion’ finally got to rest.”

“And now little Ghost thinks he’s _dead._ This is why I didn’t want Quirrel to hiber-whatever you call it!”

“Well, this seems like a great time to _teach_ them something.” Tiso turned to leave, “I’m off to-” 

Hornet grabbed his arm, “ _No_.”

“Look, I’m flattered, but I have head trauma to deal with-”

“You think you’re so smart? You want to help? _You_ tell them.”

Tiso stuttered, looking for an excuse, an escape. But under Hornet's intense stare, he found himself unable to muster one up.

He gulped anxiously and started climbing down. Once down, he hesitantly pat Ghost on the head. "Hey there pale- erm, _Ghost._ "

Ghost looked up at him, goopy black tears spilling from their eyeholes. Tiso cringed at the sight. "A-Alright. Listen, I know this-" He gestured to Quirrel, reaching for the pill bug's wrist. "-This looks bad. But it's not! I promise! Your tubby friend is going to be OK!"

They continued to stare, not believing him. This was _Tiso._ He lied about stuff all the time to make them upset. How was this different?

Sensing the disbelief, Tiso sighed. "I'm not an expert on this, so you'll have to forgive me, but Quirrel is just hibernating. A lot of bugs do it when winter comes. Cloth is doing it right now! She just left a little bit earlier."

Right, he had mentioned something like that earlier when Ghost gave him the scarf. They continued to blubber and cry, gesturing to Quirrel again. He still had no pulse and he was so cold! He was practically a corpse!

"You still think he's dead?" Tiso asked. "Listen, I've seen a lot of dead bugs in the colosseum _alone._ He's not dead." He paused, feeling Quirrel's wrist. "He still has a pulse."

"He didn't have a pulse the first time this happened!" Hornet shouted from the top of the well. She hopped down to join them. "Show me, because I couldn't find one."

"It's very faint, but he has one!" Tiso insisted. "Come see for yourself."

Mumbling curses under her breath, she felt for Quirrel's pulse. "I don't feel anything!"

"Stop being so impatient. Give it time."

Hornet waited, glaring at Tiso the entire time... until she felt a faint pulse. "...I stand corrected. It's _very_ faint."

That eased Ghost's worries slightly...But they were still crying.

"Why is he so cold then?" Hornet asked, and the little vessel nodded, wanting to know the same thing.

He gave a low hiss, sounding annoyed. "I am _not_ an expert on this, remember?! I'm essentially telling you what Cloth told me before she left. Give me a second to remember...Ah! I believe she mentioned something about how the body temperature lowers to match the environment to save... Energy, I believe. He's fine."

Ghost stood up, wiped off their tears, and gave Tiso a hug. Quirrel was going to be OK, and that's all that matters.

_"W-What is this?"_ Tiso asked, going stiff. "A-Are they attacking me?!"

"It's a hug, you fool." She sighed. "They're appreciative, and...I am as well. Now, what should we do with Quirrel?"

"Ah, well, if you give him a room to sleep in he should be fine. He might wake up now and then to get something to eat, and he'll wake up for good when it gets warmer." 

Hornet picked Quirrel up and nodded. "Alright...thank you, Tiso. Perhaps you're not so bad after all. Now Ghost, have you seen the basket of Uoma cores around here?"


	13. Stolen Cloaks and Burning Crystals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mons: Hornet cannot escape the spooder instincts  
> Pinky: Don't overindulge, Tiso!

"So what's your plan?" Tiso asked as she climbed out of the well. Hornet handed the unconscious Quirrel to Hollow as she thought of an answer.

"Well, I planned on handing out some of the Uoma cores to the townsfolk...And then I suppose...I should rest. Get Quirrel to bed." She said slowly, helping Ghost climb up with the basket of cores.

Tiso gestured to the basket. "Give me one, I'm starved. And I wasn't able to say this earlier, but you're not a bad fighter, Hornet!"

“Yes, you weren’t the wildly incompetent warrior I thought you would be, either." Hornet handed him one of the squishier cores, bruised, but not enough to burst. “If you didn’t use such cheap tactics and dirty tricks, you could be a better one.” A bit of a backhanded compliment, to be sure.

He didn't seem to care as he took a bite of the core, shuddering slightly. "Oh that is...not the taste I expected...I’m still eating, though. Give me another.”

Before she could, a bitterly cold wind picked up and it started to snow even harder, the white flakes reducing visibility dramatically.

Hornet shivered, her cloak doing nothing against the cold and the snow. 

"You need to get inside before you freeze your tail off." Tiso said, reaching for the basket handle. "I can hand these out for you if you would let me. I'm not bothered by the cold, remember?"

Still shivering, she shook her head. "T-That's awfully kind of you, b-but I wouldn't ask-k it of you."

He leaned closer and purred, "If that's the case, maybe I could warm you up?"

_Goddammit, he did it again._

“I’ve changed my mind.” she growled, shoving the basket into his chest. “I expect the basket _returned_.”

Tiso rolled his eyes and shrugged, reaching into the basket for another core to munch on. Hornet briefly wondered if she should tell him about the _vitamin poisoning_ …

_Nah_. He'd be fine.

She just wanted to get home and rest from the very long day she’d had. The days might be growing shorter, but they were certainly more _draining_ than normal. It was almost as if the cold sucked out all her energy.

The siblings went home, Hornet insisting they try to dry off and bush all the snow from their cloaks before trailing it inside. Ghost and Hollow didn't seem to mind the stuff, but she _definitely_ did and spent a good amount of time shaking herself off.

"Just dump Quirrel back in his idiotic nest." She told them, placing the tin of chamomile tea and several Uoma cores on the kitchen counter. "I know it's still there, I never took it down, and neither of you ever would." She grabbed the kettle as she spoke, shaking out the stagnant water left over from their first attempts to awaken Quirrel. "And I'll make some tea." A nice, warm cup of tea sounded absolutely _perfect_ after the day she's had.

And a warm bath. And then her nice warm bed - _Stars Above she was so tired and cold._

Hornet made tea, the dried leaves in the tin smelling _much_ better than the weeds they were brewing before. It tasted better too, _sweeter_. 

Picking up her siblings mugs, she went to the living room, finding bits of arts and crafts scattered everywhere. "I wasn't gone for very long, you know." Hornet set the mugs down on a clear patch of floor. "And I heard that you two were very busy; making the others gifts and whatnot."

Ghost nodded, excitedly showing off some scarves they were working on. "I see… And you took the materials _from my room?_ " She asked, slightly accusatory.

A little sheepishly, Ghost nodded.

"Stay out of my room. I'm going to drink several cups of tea and take a hot bath, then go to bed. If you two have any issues, solve them yourself."

* * *

As Hornet was taking her bath, Ghost snuck into her room. She told them to stay out, but when did that ever stop them? 

They searched her room, looking for where she kept her clothing. They had something very _special_ planned, but they needed something they could get nowhere else.

The Little Ghost rummaged through drawers and closets, looking for their prize. They _did_ find what resembled a journal, and that was _oh so tempting_ to read, but it wasn't what they wanted, so they carefully tucked the book back where they found it.

Finally they pulled a spare cloak from a drawer, carefully tucking it away under their own. Then, Ghost put her room back together and rushed out before Hornet could catch them.

They had _plans_ for this cloak.

* * *

Hornet returned to her room refreshed and warm, wrapped up in a plush old dressing gown she’d stolen from the City to flesh out her wardrobe.

Finally having her own place allowed her to accumulate objects like never before, and while her dependable red cloak would always be her go-to, it was nice to have _options_. 

She pulled on a pair of soft slippers _(Taken from a neighboring abandoned house)_ , wrapped herself tight in a wearable, sleeved blanket _(Found in the Watcher's Spire)_ ; And flopped into her hammock. 

From there, everything in the room was in reach; And she tugged idly at a string of silk to pull one of the remaining baskets closer for a quick snack. 

… The basket had other ideas, however, and stayed put. 

Ah, the string had been snapped at some point, undoubtedly by a certain little bug snooping around, and Hornet sighed as she found herself laboriously rolling out of bed and _walking_ over there. 

A strange thought occurred to her, as so many thoughts did, as she carried it back to the hammock. 

_Yes, it was good to have food in reach, but wouldn't it be better to keep it even closer?_

It… Would be better.

Hornet plucked a core from the basket, and with deft hands wrapped it tightly in fresh bands of silk until it looked more like a ball of string than anything resembling food. 

Within seconds, the wrapped core found itself woven into the fabric of the hammock, to the point that she was almost sleeping on it. 

Perfect!! She would have food directly on hand! 

Absently, Hornet grabbed another core. 

She had a lot of work to do. 

* * *

When Hornet entered her room, Ghost prepared themselves for the inevitable discovery of their theft. 

They waited. And waited. And waited a little longer until they realised their sister was _not_ about to storm down the stairs and demand her cloak back. 

They had gotten away with it! 

Carefully, they unfolded from their hiding place within Quirrel's nest. 

He had been dumped in by Hollow _upside down_ , but since he hadn't awoken, Ghost assumed he didn't mind.

They didn't like the idea of their friend sleeping so long, but better in the house then out in the snow. 

Next year, they would invite Cloth in as well! 

They scuttled back to the craft space, pulling the cloak out as they went and diving upon the wool and thread. 

They had some alterations to make. 

* * *

"Thank you for the flames, Mr Grimm! They make the crystals look _lovely_."

"Thank _you_ , my dear! I would be quite the useless showman if I couldn't manage some simple set dressing." 

The crystals had been strung up all over the town, casting the town in a lovely violet glow as the purple crystals blended wonderfully with the scarlet flames housed inside - Thanks to a touch of Grimm’s Magic.

"Oh this will make everyone so happy!" Myla chirped, clapping her hands. "Ghost, too!"

Grimm nodded slowly, eyes tracking the townsfolk. Several days ago, this town was the epitome of misery; Dark, depressing, and cold. But now the lights chased the darkness away, and the townsfolk had warmer clothing courtesy of the little vessel.

"Yes... The little one. I don't know their intentions…" Grimm admitted. "But I believe they're good in nature. Making this town brighter and lively serves them no purpose, other than making the bugs living here happy."

The little bug nodded. "Ghost loves making people happy! They'd visit me, during the infection, to listen to me sing and made sure I was OK!" She bowed her head slightly. "And kept checking on me… Even when I wasn't."

He didn't reply; what was he supposed to say? The Radiance's meddling never bothered him nor his Troupe, but was aware of the damage she had caused. "...You are stronger than you look, to resist the infection in any capacity." He croaked. "Very impressive."

Myla giggled, blushing faintly. "Aww, you're quite the charmer!"

Grimm frowned, feeling their kin stir from their nap. The Grimmchild mewled, upset at seemingly nothing as it squirmed unhappily under their father's cloak. "Oh, you were being so nice." He grumbled, it'd take hours to settle the child back down for a nap! And the little vessel wasn't here to tire the child out-

“Nyah!” And… They were awake. They flapped their wings and hissed, but they weren't intimidating in the slightest.

"What's wrong, my child?" Grimm cooed, tapping into the ancient parental instincts. 

Myla watched, curious. "... Your child? Is everything OK?"

“Mm, probably. They’re always a little fussy at this age.” He stroked at their cheek, feeling the bite of the Child’s fangs as they teethed against his fingers. “Do you want to come out?”

The child poked their head out of Grimm’s cloak, hissing and spitting in an attempt to be fierce. “They’re still rather young, and the little one has helped me tremendously in watching them on the occasion.”

“Oh! They’re so tiny!” She held her arms out, “Can I hold them?”

Grimm hesitated. The little miner didn’t _seem_ to be a threat… But one should never underestimate bugs, especially those from Hallownest. Then again, this was a friend of the little Vessel, although they _did_ have a strange taste in associates… 

After a moment of consideration, he slowly unfurled his cloak, claws gently wrapping around his kin. “Be careful now, they like to bite. Their fangs are coming in and they’re starting to teethe, poor thing.”

“I don’t know what that means, but OK!” Myla chirped.

“Hm. Well, if they bite you, you’ll figure it out.”

Grimmchild curled up around her arms, looking at the little bug suspiciously. Cooing excitedly, Myla nuzzled the child and held them close. "You're so small and precious! You'd break your little spine in the mines! Yes you would! _Yes you would!"_

The Grimmchild " _Nyah'd_ " at her, trying to sink their teeth into her cheek. 

" _Oooh_ , yes you _are_ a fussy little thing, aren't you? I know just what you need."

Taking a breath, Myla hummed a verse or two, rocking the child in her arms. To Grimm's amazement, his child seemed to settle down, hissing quieter. 

"You have quite the voice." He said softly, as not to interrupt her. The child was rarely pacified that easily, it typically took Grimm an _hour_ to settle the little one down for a nap. 

Perhaps this little miner was more than she looked…


	14. Presents!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mons: HEY SORRY WE VANISHED, HERE'S 6K OF FOUND FAMILY AND SOUP GOD HOLLOW  
> Pinky: Fun fact! For Quirrel to be waking up and falling asleep this quickly, he'd need to be in a state of torpor, which is actually quite distinct from hibernation! It just doesn't roll off the tongue in the same way, though...

There was something stirring in the town of Dirtmouth. But this wasn’t the stirring of a slumbering beast, it was the stirring of ideas.

The Little Ghost may not have intended it, but their gift-giving had created a domino effect on the townsfolk; If the little one went through all the trouble to make gifts for everyone, so could they, right? 

They had gotten to work right away.

The ones who were able worked on arts and craft projects; molding clay, whittling wood, shaping wax, trying their best to knit. The ones whose hands weren’t made for the finer crafts looked to see what else they could make; turning to dishes to help warm the body and soul. Freshly baked loaves of bread, piping hot stews and soups, warm vegetable casseroles.

Not long after, the gift-giving began. It wasn’t very organized, and in some places a little awkward, but the gifts were made with love and all were greatly appreciated; No one was left out.

Their gift exchange was interrupted when a fight broke out between the strange fighter that lived on the outskirts of town and the Pale Sister. It was ended quickly - "Goodness!" Elderbug sighed. "I was afraid she would kill him." - And night soon fell, the townsfolk scurrying back home to escape the dark.

But they found that the dark was being chased away by small crystals strung up around town, glowing a brilliant violet. It was truly magical, and gave the townsfolk new ideas and motivations to work throughout the night to make gifts for their neighbors and friends.

Who would've thought this whole chain reaction would start with an oversized scarf?

* * *

_‘Knock. Knock. Knock.’_

Hornet rolled in her hammock, wrapping her blankets around herself. Morning? Already? _Perish the thought_ , she’d been having such a lovely dream…

Yet the knocking kept coming. As it did every morning. Because Hollow was an _extremely_ punctual bug and they had never really let go of their old routines. 

_Such as waking up at 5am._

She couldn’t hold it against them, she supposed. It had been ingrained into them, and they couldn’t get back to sleep; She’d _told_ them they could come and wake her. And they did. Every morning. At 5.

It was still irritating.

Three more knocks rang out, and she groaned. “Okay, okay. I’m awake… Give me a moment.”

The floorboards outside shifted with a weighty creak, Hollow’s heavy footsteps unmistakable as they made their way to the stairs. 

The next part of their routine would be boiling the kettle, then, making two cups of tea. 

If she were as energetic as usual, she would be in the kitchen for that step; But Hornet felt like she had hardly slept. And who could blame her? If the world were still sensible, the sun would be rising- But _no-_ Winter stole that from her, too.

She pressed an elbow into the hammock, levering herself upright with a tired mumble that turned into a full-on squeal as what felt like nothing more than a pillowy lump of silk burst under her weight and spewed _juices_ all over her bedding. 

“What in _Hallownest_ -?!” She quietly hissed, inspecting the squishy lump of silk. Reaching down, she felt her heart stop and her blood run cold. Whatever was in the silk lump was a _bright orange._ Disgusted and horrified, the first thing she could think of were the huge, orange pustules of infection that would burst out of husks.

 _Oh Gods, was_ **_she_ ** _infected?_

All rational thought leaving her mind, she scrambled out of bed. She felt another one pop as she accidentally stepped on it, squealing again. Removing her cloak, she checked her chitin for any ruptures, any sign of infection.

Like a broken tram, her mind crashed to a halt.

There was no more infection. It and the vengeful goddess behind it had been put to rest, defeated for good. There was no more infection, no more stasis, and that was why they were experiencing winter in the first place.

So whatever it was, it _wasn't_ infection.

Hornet looked around the room, finding strange silken orbs suspended in the air, laying on the floor, and even bound into her bed. What _were_ they, then??

Looking again at the orange sludge, Hornet tried to remember the night prior. She remembered coming home, having tea, taking a bath…

And taking each Uoma core, wrapping it in silk, and carefully stringing it up.

Well, mystery solved.

Hornet had no idea _why_ she took all the Uoma cores and strung them up in silk, in her _bed_ , but all she could remember was 'it felt right at the time'.

"No, I am _not_ giving into dumb winter instincts." She told herself, starting to remove the cores from her bed carefully, in fear of more exploding into juice. She was _not_ weak enough to fall into stupid instinctual nonsense, _no_. Not like Quirrel. 

The floorboards creaked outside her door, Hollow knocking the door again and rattling the doorknob.

Hornet could _not_ let them see this. She wasn't sure _why_ but there was no way she'd let them. Embarrassment? More idiotic instincts? She wasn't sure. Either way, she called out, "G-Give me a moment!" 

She put her cloak back on, pushing some cores out of the way. Opening the door a tiny crack, she squeezed through the tiny space and quickly closed the door behind her.

Hollow stared at her. Then they looked pointedly at her door.

 _"Don't worry about it."_ She insisted, a bit louder than intended. "It’s messy in there. Did you make tea?"

Suspicious, they nodded and started heading to the kitchen.

Her secret was safe for now. She would have to deal with it eventually, but for now, she wanted tea and something to eat other than jellyfish.

Hollow waited for her at the table, as still as a statue. She knew what they wanted, they wanted honey in their tea; neither Hollow nor Ghost could be trusted to know its location, they have proved themselves unable to resist even a _hint_ of sweetness, and thus only Hornet could know where the jar of honey was without immediately scoffing it’s contents. 

Before she could do anything, however, there was a knocking at the door.

Hornet hoped it was Tiso returning her basket. At the same time, she hoped it wasn't. If she had to interact with him anymore she'd probably do something violent. To him.

"Coming!"

The door creaked as she pulled it open- Who else could even be _up_ at this unholy time, let alone knocking at their door?

"Tiso if you so much as _think_ I want to speak to you, then you're an- _Oh_." It was not Tiso. "Elderbug. Good morning. What do you want?" 

"Good morning to you too, young lady." The old bug huffed a little at the frosty reception. "I hope I didn't wake you, but I thought I'd drop by during my morning walk." 

"Why are you walking at half past five in the morning." 

"It improves my constitution. May I come in, young lady?" From under his cloak, Elderbug produced a small pile of paper-wrapped packages. "I would imagine your young sibling isn't awake yet, but I thought I'd drop these off."

Hornet eyed the pile suspiciously. There were three packages, each a different size, tied in brown paper and string. "What are these?" 

"Why, gifts, of course! One for each of you."

Why, though? “... What do you want?”

Elderbug frowned. "I want to give you these? Surely you've received gifts before, right?"

Of course she's received gifts! From her Mother and from Queen Vespa...but they were all _parting_ gifts.

Hornet stared at the old bug. "Are you _dying?"_

"How dare you? Of course not!" Elderbug gasped, "I may be old but I'm not _decrepit_ . No, the little one inspired the town with their gifts, so we've all been giving our own! It's quite lovely." He gestured outside, "Look around, it's terrible out here! We need to keep our spirits up _somehow_."

"... Okay, _okay_. Come in." Hornet muttered, stepping away to allow him entry. "Hollow? Can you make another tea?"

"Oh, that would be lovely." Elderbug said, wiping his feet as he stepped over the threshold. "This cold really eats through you!"

"I'd offer you the couch but Quirrel is… Busy. Sleeping. In there. Come sit at the table." She pulled a chair for him as Hollow set the kettle to boil.

Elderbug gladly did so, sighing quietly. “Apologies again for turning up so early, I’ve been taking walks at this time since I was a very young bug.”

Hornet tried to imagine Elderbug as anything _but_ an elder bug, but found it difficult.

“Now then, let’s not beat around the bush, as the saying goes.” Elderbug chuckled, setting the brown packages on the table. “The little one has inspired me, you see. They were so thoughtful, giving me a gift, I wanted to pay it back."

He pushed two of the packages towards the siblings. "Here, open them up!"

Hornet and Hollow stared at the packages, then each other, silently seeing who would go first. Hornet slowly pulled her package closer, tugging at the strings tying it together.

The brown wrapping paper fell away, revealing homemade honey candy inside, delicately and individually wrapped. They were golden and shiny, clearly a lot of care went into making them. "Elderbug, you made us candy?" Hornet asked, surprised. She didn't think the old bug had it in him to do…anything, really.

"I used to be quite the chef, little lady!" He chuckled, resting his head against his hands. "I had a jar of honey lying around, and I remembered the recipe and figured I might as well use it for you kids!"

Hornet brushed aside being called 'little' and 'young'.

Hollow, excited at the prospect of sweets, gently opened their package to reveal a still warm loaf of bread. It was very obvious to Hornet that her sibling was disappointed they didn't receive candy, but Elderbug didn't notice.

"That's cinnamon bread! It's rather sweet, good for breakfast, tea, and dessert."

Hornet was caught off guard. What had they done to deserve this? "Thank you, Elderbug. I'm not sure how to repay you-"

Elderbug shook his head. "No need! These are gifts! And to be quite honest, I’m repaying you three!” He tugged gently on the scarf around his neck for emphasis.

She stood to get him some tea, noticing Hollow switch gifts so the candy would be in front of them. “What about the third gift?”

“Ah! That is for the little one. I admit, I didn’t make it myself, but I hope they enjoy it. It’ll see more use _here_ then in my house.”

Setting the cup of tea in front of Elderbug, she took the package. “Well, I feel it best to have _them_ open it, then...What is it?”

Elderbug gave a knowing chuckle before sipping his drink. “Well, that would ruin the surprise, now wouldn’t it!”

“...Yes, I suppose it would.” She agreed quietly.

They had a somewhat awkward chat with Elderbug; Hornet knew he was lonely and he would leave once he had finished his tea, but it didn’t make the conversation come any easier. Hollow kept themselves busy by carefully unwrapping the candies one at a time before eating them. She shot her sibling a stern look, silently telling them to save some of the sweets.

Those sweet… _Orange…_ Perfect little spheres… 

Hornet found herself thinking back to her room; She knew she had to take down the Uoma cores and remove the silk… But it felt _wrong._ They were fine… That’s where they _should_ be…

“...Miss Hornet?” Elderbug said gently. “You seem...Distant-”

“I’M FINE.” She coughed, catching herself. "I'm tired, forgive me."

With a sigh, she grabbed the remains of her sweets and pulled them towards her, ignoring Hollow's hovering hand as they watched them go. 

"Don't worry about it, I just need-" She popped one of the hard little sweets into her mouth. _"Oh!"_

It was delicious, wonderfully sweet and soft in the middle. When was the last time she had eaten something like this? "You are… A very good cook, Elderbug." 

"Thank you!" He practically puffed with pride. "Would you like to try a slice of bread, before I go?" Elderbug asked, having worked quickly through his tea. 

Hornet was tempted, but... They didn't have anything to put on it. "I'm not that hungry." She lied. Still no meat in the cupboards, and the thought of Uoma for breakfast didn't sound appealing.

Elderbug nodded thoughtfully, sipping the last bit of his tea. "Ah, that's alright. I best be off, I have more gifts to give to the others!"

"Alright, stay warm." Hornet said, getting the door for him. Elderbug waved goodbye and shuffled off, doing his best to avoid the massive piles of snow.

Hornet shut the door and quickly re-entered the kitchen. "...Drop them." She ordered.

Hollow slowly opened their hand, letting the candy they had swiped clatter to the table. They didn't appear guilty in the slightest.

"Am I going to have to hide these too?" She asked, picking one up. 

… She better wrap them up and save them for later. _Wrap them up tight in silk and hang them up-_

Hornet shook her head, dismissing the thought from her mind. Maybe there _was_ something wrong with her. 

"I… I don't feel well." She told them, setting the candy back down upon the table. "I'm going to go lay down." _And deal with whatever she did last night_.

Hollow stood up, concerned. "No need to follow me! It’s just a headache.” She quickly assured them, backing away in the direction of the stairs. “Why not check on Quirrel instead? Or Ghost?”

They didn't seem convinced, but Hornet scrambled upstairs before they could follow. She closed the door and locked it tight, heaving a sigh. Glancing around the room, Hornet made a mental count of how many Uoma cores were wrapped up.

"...Stars above, I have some work to do…"

* * *

Hollow was placed on sentry duty by Ghost, the little one insisting they keep watch for Hornet. They had only just woken up, yet they'd already thrown themselves into work.

They were making her a gift and didn't want the surprise ruined.

But Hornet hadn't left her room for hours, and they were starting to get worried. What could she be _doing_ in there? She wasn't one to casually nap.

They were torn between checking on her and doing what Ghost had said.

They decided to check on her; they didn't need to follow orders anymore, Wyrm dammit!

… They silently apologized for using their father's name in vain.

Quietly, avoiding the creaky floorboards, they approached her door, leaning against it to eavesdrop. 

Hornet was doing… _Something._ Not sleeping. She was moving around, muttering angrily to herself. They reached for the handle, twisting it.

She had locked her door.

There was a faint squeak from inside, along with a thud. "I heard that!" Hornet called, marching loudly over and unlocking the door with a sudden scraping of metal and opening it just wide enough to peer through the crack. "... Hollow, what did I tell you about knocking?" 

_She told them to_ **_do_ ** _it. However, this was clearly an emergency._

"What do you want?" 

Hollow pushed at the door with their shoulder, cracking it open against Hornet's will. 

… Was it them, or was her bed looking a little... Lumpy?

" _Hollow_ _!_ What are you- Hey!" 

They stepped into the room without care for her complaints, peering about. 

It was a mess! There was a pile of torn-up silk under her hammock, those orange orbs she had bought home scattered over the carpet with little abandon, covered in sticky little threads.

" _Get out!_ "

Hollow stared at her, gesturing to her bed and the silk everywhere, hoping for an explanation. They weren’t given one. Instead, Hornet huffed and tried to push them out of her room. “I said _get out!”_

Oh, was that how she wanted to play it? _Fine_. 

Hollow went limp, flopping their entire head and torso backwards over her horns. 

" _Hollow_!"

Wow. How crazy. Gravity was increasing on them. They started to lean as much weight on their sister as possible, feeling her arms shake. 

" _Hollow, I'm going to- I'll- No sweets for you! Or tea!_ "

Oof. Well, they could live with that. Probably. 

Maybe. 

Okay, they couldn't, but she _probably_ wouldn't enforce it. 

There came a series of gentle knocks from the front door. 

… It would be rude not to answer, wouldn't it? Or, more likely, it would be rude to not allow _Hornet_ to answer. They were not the 'door' type.

Hollow sat up, feeling Hornet stumble heavily as their weight left her. They turned to make eye contact with her, pointing down the stairs towards the door. 

"No." Hornet said, "No, I am not leaving you to get into my room."

Then they would come with, obviously. 

She stared them down. “You go first, I’ll follow and answer the door.”

Fair deal.

Hollow entered the living room first, gesturing to Ghost that Hornet was coming and they should hide whatever they were working on.

Little Ghost shoved their project in their cloak just as she entered.

Hornet gave her siblings a suspicious glance, looking ready to say something. Then there was another knock on the door, louder but still polite.

Opening the door revealed Iselda, holding a package under her arm and wearing a bright scarf. "Hello, sweetie!" She purred, giving Hornet an affectionate nuzzle.

Hornet grumbled a little at the unwarranted affection, but didn't do anything to stop the taller bug. It was just what Iselda did, and she'd be lying if she said it wasn't nice to receive a _little_ parental affection.

"How are you, my dear? May I come in?”

“I’m… Fine.” Hornet said, eyeing the load under Iselda’s arm. 

More packages. Hornet already knew what this was about, and with a sigh, she stepped aside. “Come in. Hollow? Could you boil the kettle again?” 

A couple more visits like this and she’d have to _actually_ rob Lemm for more tea. 

Then again, maybe she would do it anyway. The old bug probably had it coming.

Hornet closed the door as Iselda stepped inside, leading her in and pulling out a chair at the kitchen table. 

Unlike Elderbug, Iselda had been to their home before, but that was no reason to abandon manners.

And for once, Hornet felt compelled to stick to the etiquette her father had tried to drill into her. Iselda had done them a good turn when the three of them had moved in; Inviting the penniless trio to a suspicious number of meals at her home, and loading them with enough leftovers on the way out to last for days.

Hornet had no idea what they would do without her.

"Oh, Hollow dear! You're getting so big!" Iselda chirped. This was something she said every time she saw them, and it certainly wasn't true, but none of them corrected her. "And such a gentlebug, making tea for me, you don't need to do that!"

"It's nothing." Hornet assured her. "It's too cold _not_ to offer."

Ghost excitedly ran into the room, stopping at the chair she was sitting in expectantly. 

"And there you are! Little one, come here-" Iselda leaned down, giving the little vessel a kiss on the forehead. A little childish, yes, but Ghost enjoyed her motherly affection.

Where as Hornet simply thought the affection was nice, Hollow and Ghost _relished_ in the additional attention.

"Now, Miss Iselda-"

"Oh Hornet sweetie, I've told you before! You don't need to be so formal with me, Iselda is fine."

"-I believe I know why you are here."

"Oh?"

Hornet nodded at the package Iselda had placed onto the table as she sat down, "You're returning the Little Ghost's favour, am I correct?" Ghost perked up at that, and she couldn't help but smile. "That reminds me. There's something for you from Elderbug, you can open it up after this." 

They stared up at her with wide eyes, practically starting to vibrate with excitement as they eyed Iselda's gift; Slapping the table with their paws.

Iselda laughed, "Ah-ah-ah! I'm glad you're excited! However…" She pushed the package towards Hornet. "Open it up."

"Oh." Ignoring Ghost's furious table slaps of disappointment, she tugged at the brown paper wrapping until it tumbled open; Spilling three boxes covered in brightly coloured tissue paper onto the table.

Iselda reached over and pushed each box in front of their recipient. 

Hornet's was bright red, Ghost's blue, Hollow's white. 

"Go on!" She prompted. 

Ghost wasted no time in tearing apart the bright wrapping paper, the contents spilling over the table with a clatter. 

It was a little toy Tiktik, carved from lacquered wood with precise and careful strokes. 

Underneath, a set of wheels sent it rolling as it hit the table, dragging along a length of string attached to the front.

There was no question whether Ghost liked it or not. They grasped the string and leapt from their chair, racing from the room with the Tiktik rolling wildly behind. 

The assembled bugs turned to watch as they clattered up and down the hallway, the slapping of their feet accompanied by the squeaking of wheels as they ran laps. 

Hornet’s first thought was a strange melancholy; she and Hollow had no childhood, they had no toys to speak of. Their youth was filled with training, needles, nails, and pain. She was glad that their younger sibling - Despite the hardships and pain they had already gone through to save her and Hollow - Would receive at least a partial childhood.

Her second thought was her hopes and prayers that Iselda didn’t make _her_ a toy. She may curse the Pale King until the day she died for a terrible childhood, but she wasn’t a child _now._

Hesitating, she opened her own package. A small figurine spilled out onto the table with a soft clink. 

It was her. A tiny wooden carving of her likeness, lovingly painted and whittled to resemble her as much as possible. Although, it gave off the impression of something… Innocent. Child-like.

"I had a feeling you'd be a little offended if I made _you_ a toy, dear." Iselda explained. "Toys aren't exactly your… Style. So I made you _you_!"

"This is…" Hornet picked up the little figure, running her fingers over the smooth surface of her own miniature face. "It's… _Exquisite_." She breathed, "You made this yourself?"

"Well, it isn't like I had anyone to make it for me." Iselda laughed, "I've always had a talent for woodwork. You could say this little project has really helped me _whittle_ away the hours!"

As she spoke, Hollow's hand inched towards their gift, patience slowly wearing as they waited. 

If they were a politer bug, they would wait for a break in the conversation to open up the present.

However, Hornet and Iselda's discussion was diving deeper and deeper into crafting techniques with no signs of stopping… And they thought they were _not_ a polite bug.

Quietly, as to not disturb the two’s conversation, they started tearing the wrapping paper. They had tried to be discreet, but as they saw glimpses of the gift from beneath the paper, they grew more excited.

“Oh, I think _someone_ likes their gift!” Iselda cooed as Hollow finished tearing apart the paper. It was a cookbook and a hand-carved wooden spoon, and on the bottom of the wooden spoon was an engraving of their likeness.

"It used to be quite the fashion to sign off with a pictogram of your mask, rather than your name." She continued, leaning over to point. "Now everyone will know this is yours!"

Hollow tore into the book with enthusiasm. It had everything! Dinner, dessert, lunch, meals of all sorts and kinds. Every few pages, they would grab Hornet's arm and pull her to look at the recipe. 

The mere _pictures_ were making them hungry, they could barely imagine how the meals tasted! 

They were grateful. Thankful? Although, they weren't sure how to show it. 

Hollow settled on reaching over and grabbing at Iselda in a series of rapid pats.

She laughed, catching and squeezing their hand in understanding. "I'm glad you like it."

Thankfulness established, they rushed to the cupboards. They needed to see what ingredients they had!

“Hollow, we have nothing but Uoma cores and bread.” Hornet called after them. 

They could work with that. They would improvise. Hollow peered at the recipe they had landed on, a meaty soup. Yes, they could substitute… At least three of these ingredients with Uoma, maybe more. If not, well, they would simply pick something else.

After all, _exactly_ what you put it shouldn’t be too important, so long as it’s food, right? 

A bit of digging in the pantry proved that Hornet was only counting the things _she_ was willing to eat as food, anyway. Hollow came out with a handful of wilted… _Vegetables_ , perhaps? They weren’t sure, they’d gone a little unidentifiable, along with a bit of flour and a dried, dusty crust at the bottom of a jar that they believed was once some stock.

There were a few dry and empty jars knocking around back there, which were once filled with jams and preserves that would mysteriously disappear overnight before Hornet started hiding all the good stuff from them. They never had time to get them refilled before winter hit.

Ooh, the book had recipes for jams! Those jars would see use again.

Oh, and pickles. They had to do pickles. And marmalade. And chutney. And-

\- What were they doing again? 

Right, _ingredients_! They couldn’t let themselves get distracted! 

Hollow tried to ignore the allure of the power Iselda had given them. The power to make so many delicious foods… _Whenever they wanted_ . Hornet would never be able to stop them from dining on sweets again because _they would make the sweets! Ghost would be in awe of their_ **_soupy prowess! They would be the cook of cooks, the god of all-_ **

“Hollow, are you okay?” Hornet called from the kitchen. “You’ve been standing in there for ages. Iselda’s about to leave.”

Ah.

Instead of getting ingredients they had simply stood in the pantry, _thinking_ about getting ingredients. They could cook later, but for now, they had to give Iselda their goodbyes.

And perhaps more thanks? Had they thanked enough? They weren't sure. They'd never received a gift before. What was the procedure?

Iselda was already at the door by the time they’d removed themself from the pantry, laughing as Ghost raced in circles at her feet with their new toy.

Reaching easily over their sibling, Hollow wrapped their arm around Iselda’s shoulders in a quick hug, as she so often did to them; Patting twice on her back as they had seen others do before, eliciting a hollow _‘thump, thump.’_

“Have a lovely day, my dear.” She said, patting them back, “I can’t wait to see what you create!”

They wouldn’t let her down! They were going to cook _all the things!_

* * *

Hollow finally settled on a recipe they could try with their limited ingredients and promptly shoved Hornet out of the kitchen.

Which was fine, she could find something else to do.

She entered the living room with the intention of checking in on Quirrel. She wasn't _too_ worried about him, not at all...She was only checking in for Ghost's sake.

But she found Ghost working on something instead. Something bright red that they quickly shoved into their cloak as soon as she entered the room.

Hornet's eyes narrowed. "What was that?"

Ghost tilted their head, trying to look innocent. They pointed to a red and black scarf nearby.

"Not that. Whatever you just shoved into your cloak. What was _that?_ " She asked, patience growing thin. She had noticed the little vessel hiding something earlier, but was unable to mention it until now. “What are you up to?”

Ghost actually had the audacity to look exaggeratedly around the room, before pointing questioningly at themselves. 

“Yes, you. There’s no one else here.” Then, they pointed at the nest piled up behind the sofa. “No, he doesn’t count, he’s- _What are you doing awake_?”

Quirrel’s mask stared out from the pile. He peered at her owlishly, before managing to rasp out “... Water.” 

“... I’d say your brain must still be off, but it was never on. Go get some from the kitchen, I need to talk to my sibling.” She watched as the sleepy bug shuffled out, a ratty blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cloak, before turning back to Ghost.

Or, at least, turning back to where Ghost _was_ ; Because they were no longer in the room. 

“Ghost!” They must have snuck out with Quirrel. Hornet marched into the hallway, patience quickly reaching a limit. “Get back here!”

There was a clatter and a thud from the kitchen and Hornet quickly zeroed in on the sound, shoving the door open with just a little more force than necessary. “Ghost, I know you’re-” Her sentence spluttered to a stop. “ _Stars above_ , Quirrel.”

The Archivist had turfed a dirty plate and a pile of cutlery out of the sink, directly into Hollow’s workspace, and had shoved his entire mask under the running tap to drink. 

“... At least use a _glass_ , you animal.” He ignored her, as he was far too busy getting water all over the floor. And himself. And the counter. 

_Whatever_. Hornet turned to her sibling, “Hollow, have you seen Ghost? I need to speak to them.”

They shook their head; _No, they had not_ , and also, _Quirrel was currently filling their mixing bowl with face-water and they would quite like him to stop._

With a tired mumble, the problem corrected itself as the scholar finally drank his fill and shuffled back out of the room, leaving a trail of droplets in his wake and the tap still running as the door swung shut behind him. 

Hornet heaved a sigh, and reached over to shut off the water. She would need to keep an eye on that, lest it became a habit. 

Hollow had clearly been mixing something, and Quirrel had managed to soak the workspace with his face to the point that little pools had accumulated over the surface of the batter. 

“What are you making-” She tried to peer over Hollow’s arm to look at the cookbook, but they slammed it shut before she could see.

Clearly, both of her siblings had secrets they wanted to keep. 

Exasperated, she threw her arms in defeat and stalked from the room. “Fine! Keep your secrets. I’m going to find Ghost.”

Now, the question was, where could they be hiding? Certainly, somewhere within the house at least, she had not heard the front door open. 

And with the noise those hinges made, it would be _very_ hard to miss the door opening. 

She would check their room first, give the house a good sweep from top to bottom. 

She did not like having things _hidden_ from her. 

“I know you’re in here, Ghost.” Hornet hissed, stalking into their room. To be fair, she didn't know for sure. But she hoped that - If they were indeed hiding here - Her threat would lure them out.

She checked Little Ghost's room, which was really just a glorified closet, and moved onto Hollow's.

Hollow's room was large, the largest in the house. It only seemed fitting. Their bed wasn't much of a bed, more of a nest of blankets on top of a mattress. They kept their room clean and tidy and didn't have many possessions, making the hunt for Ghost all the easier.

She didn't bother checking her room. Hornet had locked it earlier, and she thanked whatever gods left that Ghost didn't know how to pick locks yet.

With the top floor checked, that left the bottom.

"I sincerely hope you're not hiding Ghost from me." She told Hollow as she opened and closed the cupboards.

Hollow shook their head as they turned on the burner, setting a large, flat pan on top. Hornet paused. "What _are_ you making?"

She received no answer. Not even a gesture. Hollow simply stared at her. "... Fine. whatever."

She stalked out. They were clearly going to be no help. 

There were only a few more rooms to go: The living room, the dining room, the porch… Maybe the hallway, depending on your definition of ‘room.’ 

The dining room was easy to get to from the kitchen on account of Ghost collapsing a wall during a fit of boredom, yet they still rarely used it; It was stuffy and the table was too long, the chairs too uncomfortable. 

It was good storage, though. 

Hornet stepped through the hole, creeping towards the table as fast as she dared. 

When she was mere inches away, she grabbed the pale tablecloth and yanked it upwards, “FOUND YOU, GHOST- _Oh_.” 

… And there was nothing under there.

They were good, she would give them that, but not good _enough_. Their pool of hiding places was getting shallower with every second of searching, she would have them soon.

Finally, she entered the living room.

It was the last place they could be; She had already swept the house from top to bottom, leaving nowhere else for them to hide. 

Hornet should have expected it, really, the living room was the last place she had seen them.

"I know you're in here, Ghost." She said, "Come on out." 

Unsurprisingly, Ghost didn’t immediately pop out of their hiding spot, intent on being difficult.

“Ghost, if you don’t come out _right now_ , I will turn this room upside-down.”

Something shuffled, and Hornet turned to see Ghost slowly emerge from Quirrel’s nest. They shuffled a little closer, guiltily kicking at the floorboards with a foot. 

“Turn out your pockets.” They didn’t have any pockets, but Hornet knew they would understand what she meant.

Obediently, they lifted their cloak, objects scattering to the floor. 

There were objects in there she hadn’t seen for _weeks_ ; Cutlery, small toys, scraps of food, and even, impossibly, an unmelted snowball; Which splattered against the ground with a quiet thud as it fell. 

That flash of red, however, was nowhere to be seen. 

“And the rest?” She asked impatiently, watching as Ghost produced their wooden Tiktik from somewhere within the folds of their cloak, followed by a handful of honey sweeties. 

“Where… Did you get those?” Hornet asked. “They were a gift for _me_.” 

They pointed towards the kitchen, practically radiating innocence as their other hand carefully offered the treats back.

Did Hollow steal her sweets for them? That was… Well… _Sweet_. 

Hornet sighed, pressing the candies back into their palm. “Keep them.” Had she merely _imagined_ they were hiding things from her?

They silently stuffed the handful under their mask, even the crunch of the hard sweets muffled by their nature. “Right. Okay. I’m… Sorry for shouting at you. As you were.” 

There came a knock on the door, and Hornet sighed. Another visitor. 

“Coming!” She called, injecting as much friendliness into her voice as she could.

She was getting a little… _Peopled-out…_ Staying sedimentary within the house was not good for her, in fact, it was clearly sending her a little mad. 

Normally, she would unwind with a good hunt, but with no live game, that option was closed off to her. 

Hornet opened the door. "Hello-" 

She found herself face to face with a _stag._

All the stags had died during the infection, and yet; In front of her stood a very much alive individual, wrapped in a scarf and still wearing one of the carriages used to transport bugs back in the Kingdom's heyday.

Hornet took a few seconds to process this, and a few seconds more to realize there was no way in Hallownest this enormous bug was going to get in further than the porch.

"Greetings," The Impossible Stag said, "Is the little one home?"

* * *

The Stag drank his tea from a bowl, seated under the eve of the porch. 

Hornet sat on the steps, cradling her fourth cup of the day as he spoke, Ghost sitting between them, snacking on more sweeties and sipping hot water, the last of their tea going to the Stag.

“The little one rang the bells and drew me back from the tunnels,” He said, “This scarf… I didn’t expect such a gift. Such kindness from the one that reopened the Kingdom to me, it’s truly wonderful.”

Hornet didn't remember using the Stag Station in Deepnest as a child, and there wasn't one near the Hive either. She wasn't sure what to expect from this Stag; _But it seemed like long, rambling stories_.

Ghost stared at the large bug, completely enraptured in his stories, but she just...couldn't. Sitting in one place, listening to others talk? That wasn't her forte. Dashing through the caves, feeling the air rush in the folds of her cloak, her needle sharp and aim deadly.

She took a sip of her 'tea', subtly tapping her fingers against the mug. Hornet had been inside all day. She _ached_ to go out and hunt, but of course, there wasn't anything _to_ hunt.

_Unless…_

… Maybe there was.

As stealthy as she could, Hornet set down her mug and stood up. 

She began to sidle off the porch, around the side of the house, where she could slip away-

“Miss?” … And the Stag had spotted her. 

“I’ll be right back.” She said, “I feel this is more of a moment for you and Ghost, anyway. Feel free to ask for more tea.”

The stag nodded, sipping from his cup before returning to his story. Hornet ducked inside, grabbing her needle and stopping by the kitchen. “I’m sneaking out through the backdoor to go hunt.” She whispered to Hollow. “If The Stag asks for me, stall. I’ll return soon.”

Hollow had their back to her, but made a gesture to show they had heard.

Hornet nodded and left through the back.


	15. Hornet Commits Armed Robbery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mons: Hornet should really look into stealing she'd be good at it  
> Pinky: *Mission Impossible music*

While there was no game left in Hallownest, Hornet was not lying when she said she intended to hunt.

She had a different prey in mind. Warmer. Leafier.  _ Caffeinated. _

Hornet was after tea, and she knew exactly where to get it. 

_ Lemm _ . 

He had so  _ much  _ tea. He would not miss a few tins; In fact, with the state his house was in, he’d probably be unable to notice even if she took his  _ entire supply _ . 

Also, she really,  _ really  _ needed to approximate a hunt. She had no other ways to relieve stress and she wasn’t about to learn any now. 

The journey into the City of Tears was easy enough, she could navigate Hallownest in her sleep; But, the moment her feet touched the cobbles, the heist was  _ on _ . 

Hornet gripped her needle and hauled herself into the air, sailing easily to the buildings above on a line of silk and grabbing an outcropping, from which she began to climb.

The city’s tallest buildings literally scraped the roof of the cavern, the streets stacking and crossing above and below, built between levels like a puzzle. 

She couldn’t imagine what it was like when it was populated, and the idea of trying to navigate more than the simplest of routes on  _ foot  _ was appalling; Especially as the flying guards would never have allowed her to use her silk. 

Lemm’s building was easy to locate. The statue of the Hollow Knight, still there and still unworn by the endless rain, stood in the very center of the city; In the midst of a great ring of buildings, forming a secluded clearing in the middle of the urban sprawl. 

Hornet made her way around the circle, so high above the ground she wouldn’t have been able to make out the details of her sibling’s face, had she dared to look. She had seen enough of that blasted statue. It couldn't compare to the real thing, after all.

She settled against the wall far above Lemm’s flat, and began to descend slowly upon a thread, bringing herself just above the window.

To her delight, the old bug had left it propped open.

She flipped herself upside-down, peering through the glass into Lemm’s living quarters. 

It was still a wild mess in there, with anything and everything scattered with abandon, shoved underneith things, and, in the case of what appeared to be an entire bookshelf, hidden poorly under a blanket. 

By some stroke of luck, the old bug himself was asleep, slumped over the only uncluttered piece of furniture left; An old desk. 

Hornet cracked the window a little wider, and slipped in. 

Avoiding any floorboards that looked like they had the potential to creak, she crept deeper into the quiet gloom. In addition to having to avoid creaky floorboards, she also had to step over random knick-knacks and junk littering the floor.

It was much more exciting than hunting Uomas, at least. The constant risk of discovery got her blood pumping harder than it had since the snow fell.

The only problem was… She didn’t know where the tea was hidden.

Hornet began to peel back pillows and blankets, mindful of anything underneath that could make a sound as she shifted through the hidden droves of objects. 

Finally, after what felt like  _ forever _ , a handful of tins relinquished themselves from the insides of a duvet. 

No wonder he was sleeping at his desk. 

Hornet sorted through quickly, stealing glances at the old bug every few seconds. She didn’t want it all, no, just the tins that took her fancy. 

_ More chamomile _ , she thought, quietly pocketing two tins; Mindful not to let them clatter against anything in her cloak,  _ and… Spiced chai.  _ Sounded good enough for her.

With her choices set, Hornet swiftly moved through the rest of the shop, dodging the minefield that was Lemm’s carpeting and creeping towards the front entrance. 

She did not have the ability to cling to walls so common amongst her kind, and the window would be, at best, very loud to climb. 

Having finally made it to the front door and finding her heist successful, Hornet grabbed the handle and  _ tugged _ , the wooden door flying open with a little more force than necessary. 

And, just as she thought she was out safe, the bell above the doorway  _ rang _ . 

Hornet froze.  _ Maybe, just maybe, the old bug was so asleep he wouldn’t _ -

“Eh? Who’s there?” Oh, dear. She turned slowly as she heard the old bug extract himself from his chair with a creak, there was a clear line of sight from his desk to the door, and she practically  _ felt  _ the clatter as he shuffled from his seat and stood upon the pile of tea tins she had left mere inches from his feet. “ _ What the _ -” He stumbled, head shooting up, and for a moment, the two made eye contact across the shop. 

"I- What- _You-_ " The old bug's mouth flapped aimlessly as he tried to get a grip upon the situation. "Young lady- How _dare- You_ _thief-_ "

Ah. He’d pegged the situation far faster than Hornet had expected. 

Without further ado, and with that realisation in mind, she bolted.

_ “GET BACK HERE!”  _ Lemm's voice echoed into the City behind her, and for a moment she could swear he was actually giving  _ chase _ , before, with a blurring of her needle, Hornet launched herself back through the rain towards home; Mission achieved. 

* * *

Hornet arrived back on the doorstep in much the same fashion she had left, silently and with little fanfare. 

Ghost barely looked up as she arrived, still engrossed in the words of the Old Stag as they were. 

He had so many things to say! They had no idea one bug could ever see so much and remember it all so  _ fondly _ .

He made the tunnels of Hallownest sound like a lively and wonderful place to roam, rather than the ghastly spectre of a kingdom they had still grown to love. 

It had all been so different! So vibrant! They wished they could have seen it.

Ignoring the ramblings of the giant bug, Hornet slipped back inside, placing the tins upon the counter. "Still cooking, are we?" She asked Hollow, who barely spared her a passing glance.

Hollow pushed the cookbook towards her, pointing to an ingredient they were out of. "Ah. You want me to go get you this?"

A nod.

"Fine, fine. Do you want to at least tell me  _ what _ you're cooking?"

A headshake.

Hornet huffed, “Okay, keep your secrets. I’ll see what I can get for you.”

Where she would find  _ syrup  _ at such a lean time was up in the air, but she would do her best for them, and another hunt would not go amiss. 

When she was young, her father had taken her to see livestock that could be used to produce something similar; An extraordinarily large relative of the domestic Aspid, what were they called?  _ Aphids _ ? 

She had been allowed to give one it’s feed, in the hopes to inspire her to work towards the kingdom’s prosperity, or something. 

It had licked her. 

She had to be removed after attempting to stab the beast, and her father had never attempted to get her interested in food production again.

Maybe there were some still out there? A few animals would be a boon to Dirtmouth, and the sweet nectar produced by the creatures was an old favourite of hers; It would be nice to try some again. 

If only she could remember where they were kept! 

Somewhere spacious. Greenpath? Kingdom’s Edge?  _ The Fungal Wastes _ ? She had no idea. Perhaps it would be worth waking Quirrel up to see if he could remember anything useful. 

“Excuse me, miss?” Came the Stag’s voice from the hallway. 

Hornet left the kitchen to find the bug jammed as far through the front door as he could get, waving with a front leg. “Young lady-”

“Do you want more tea?” Hornet asked, privately keen to crack into her stolen goods. 

“No, thank you. It’s just- It seems you have more guests.” The Stag withdrew, propping the door with a foot for her to follow,  _ revealing- _

“ **THERE SHE IS**!” _Lemm._ How had he followed so fast? She’d lost him miles away! “ _That’s_ _the one that broke into my home and robbed me!_ ”

And with him… Oh,  _ Wyrm _ , it couldn’t be. The bug in front of her should be long-dead, and yet…

Ogrim the Defender stood bemusedly, supporting the old bug by the elbow as he huffed and puffed and shouted his lungs out. 

That, at least, explained how he arrived so fast.  _ Pure fury _ (And a little help).

Ogrim was a little…  _ Grubbier  _ than she recalled, but there was no mistaking the jolly old bug that babysat her during diplomatic meetings and helped her learn to handle a needle. 

He even  _ smelt  _ the same.

During a break in Lemm’s shouting, during which he had to take a series of deep, puffing breaths, Ogrim said with a quiet smile; “Good afternoon, princess. Still causing trouble, I see?”

Hornet laughed, half in shock, half genuine. Even after all these years, hearing Ogrim speak so  _ softly  _ was beyond ridiculous. “No one calls me  _ ‘princess’ _ anymore.”

“Ah, I suppose they wouldn’t. A shame.” He nodded at Lemm, who appeared to be getting angrier by the second, “May we come in? I’ve heard of an extremely  _ impressive  _ burglar at this address, and while I may not be a knight anymore, I still-”

“ _ -IMPRESSIVE _ ??” The old bug looked to be seconds away from exploding. “She broke in through my window and raided my home! You should be arresting her!”

“-As I said, I’ve been hearing such impressive things! And once I realised it was  _ you _ , well…” He coughed, releasing Lemm’s elbow and taking a few steps forward, “It’s been so long, prin-  _ Ma’am _ . I can see you’ve grown into a fine young lady-”

_ “-NO SHE HASN’T!” _

“-I was hoping... Perhaps we could talk?  _ ‘Catch up?’ _ ” He seemed… Sad. “If I’d known you were still  _ here…  _ I would have… You…” He sighed, tone dropping back to something uncharacteristically soft, “Well, I lost track of a  _ lot  _ during my exile, I suppose.”

Of course, he’d been exiled. 

Her father had never explained, merely saying her favourite knight  _ ‘would not be back’ _ when asked of his absence. 

She’d assumed him infected or dead, perhaps both, and with her mother’s sleep fast approaching, she was already numb to the point it barely registered. 

Her father praised her for being  _ ‘so grown up’ _ , but she was merely ignoring the pain, putting it from her mind with the rest.

Perhaps she had done so  _ too  _ well, if he had been within Hallownest the whole time. 

How could such a bug hide from her notice? 

And how did  _ Lemm  _ of all people know about him?

Speaking of Lemm, the old bug stormed past her, his breath still panting. “ _ Fine _ , I’ll take it back myself!”

She watched him storm down the hallway and turn the wrong direction for the kitchen, turning back to Ogrim as the old bug disappeared into the living room. 

“... Would you like some tea?” 

* * *

“Give it to me.”

Hollow looked down upon Lemm with the impassive gaze of a chef that did  _ not  _ intend to relinquish their new tea. He had been nagging at them for what felt like ages, but, as a professional, instead of handing it over they merely moved it to a higher shelf and resumed cooking as if there  _ wasn’t  _ a demanding old bug trying to steal ingredients from them.

"Listen here,  _ you- _ " Lemm growled, "I don't care who you are, that tea belongs to me!"

That was a lie. 

In fact, Lemm did  _ very much _ care who they were; For in front of him stood an ancient bug considered so important that a statue had been erected in their honour within the center of the City, yet whatever sacrifice they had made, no records remained. 

He was looking at a legend, an enigma, a story he'd been dying to hear for so long, and they were wearing an undersized apron, mixing a bowl of suspiciously orange batter with a spoon carved in their own likeness and, most importantly,  _ hiding his rightly earnt tea from him. _

"Don't ignore me, you... Big… _Brute._ " This earned him a glance. " _Some_ _knight_ _indeed-_ _Ow_!" 

The Hollow Knight, bug of legend, had smacked him on the head with their personalised spoon. 

"How  _ dare _ you-” Lemm began, nowhere near done with his tirade; “I ran all the way here to get that tea. I don’t care if it’s inconsequential, it’s the principle of it! If you don’t hand it back  _ right now _ I will climb up there and get it mysel-” He was cut off as the Hollow Knight, a bug so mysteriously important they were paid a personal tribute by the king, slammed their spoon onto the counter with a loud  _ wack _ . 

Then, in a single smooth movement, they grabbed him by the furry collar of his neck and hoisted him into the air. “Wait- Wh-  _ PUT ME DOWN!" _

It was humiliating enough to be  _ scruffed  _ at his age, and worse still that the action still made him fall too limp to struggle. “You bully! You ruffian! This is demeaning!”

Clearly out of patience, the tall bug crossed the room in only a few steps, dropped him less than gently outside and closed the door firmly in Lemm's face. 

There was a rattle, and the old bug's mood was soured further by the sound of a key turning in the lock; Shutting him firmly out. 

* * *

“The sewers? This whole time?” Ogrim had exiled himself to the one place she’d never visited. 

Of course he would go there. Of course! He would never  _ leave  _ the kingdom; He loved it far too much.

Hornet sipped her tea, one of three cups set out on the table. 

One for her, one for Ogrim and one for when Lemm inevitably stormed back into the room.

She had made more than that, but Hollow took theirs into the kitchen and Ghost outside, still enamoured by the Old Stag’s stories. 

Ogrim spoke quietly, perhaps finally tempered by time.

He had been living alone in the Waterways since her father had sent him away. Years surrounded by nothing but filth. 

Hornet knew for a fact he didn’t mind that last bit, but  _ she _ did. She minded all of it. 

The only people that knew of his existence were Lemm, who had fallen through an open sewer grate while scavenging for food, and her own little sibling; Who had defeated the great Knight in battle.

Another fault of hers. Another failure. How many times had she passed overhead? How many times had she told herself she needed to branch out her patrol only to be turned away by the dirt and smell?

“You’re awfully quiet, princess.” Ogrim said. “Last I saw you, you wouldn’t stop singing the alphabet! Oh, how proud you were to have it all memorised.” 

"I'd imagine I was." She said, barely listening.

Had it really been that long? Was she so unfamiliar with her own kingdom that she managed to miss a bug so larger than life, even as he hid in plain sight? 

"Princess? Are you okay?"

"No." She sighed, "You've been here this entire time and I didn't even  _ notice _ . How could I be so unobservant? We should have had this meeting years ago!" 

Ogrim blinked, then he settled his mug upon the table with a quiet tap and placed his hand upon her shoulder. 

"I feel  _ exactly the same _ , princess." He said, "I had no idea you still lived until the Relic Seeker dragged me from the Waterways! To think, my young charge has been living above my head this whole time, amongst the ruins and the infected masses! It's more than enough to twist my very heart."

He shook his head, "But all that has already happened, has it not? We can't change it, so why dwell? We're both here  _ now _ ." He took another sip, "And I'd say, there are worse circumstances to meet under than these!" 

He was right. Things could have been better, yes, but they could have been far  _ worse _ . 

Hornet supposed she could take solace in that. 

“Still,” She said, “We have a  _ lot  _ of catching up to do.”

“That we do!” Ogrim laughed, “Well, let’s get started!”

It was at that point that Lemm stormed back into the room, snatching up his mug as he went and dropping angrily into a seat. “I see you still aren’t in cuffs.” He grumbled, taking a mouthful of what, at that point, could only be lukewarm tea.

“Nor will I ever be.” Hornet said cooly. 

She only got a  _ ‘humph’  _ in return, coupled with some obnoxiously  _ loud  _ sipping.

“Hm. Didn’t you take this from an abandoned shop?” Ogrim asked. 

“Yes! Fair and square.” 

“And no Geo changed hands?” 

“Well, of course not.” Lemm muttered, “Unlike  _ my  _ shop, it was abandoned. I wasn't about to sit around and let tall that tea go to waste!"

“I see.” Ogrim lent forwards, “Surely, that means it didn’t belong to you in the first place?”

“Wh- Hold on!” Lemm sputtered into his mug, slamming the ceramic cup down hard enough to slosh his drink over the rim. “First, it’s mine,  _ finder’s keepers _ , secondly, you agreed to help me get it back!”

“Did I?” Ogrim asked innocently, “Or did I merely ask you to lead me to your criminal?” 

“Wha- You…  _ Ass _ .” Lemm hissed, “You never intended to help me at all, did you?”

“Well… If it were anyone else, I would. But the princes- Ah, miss Hornet here has more of a claim on that tea than either of us.”

Hornet coughed, putting up a hand in an attempt to quiet him. “Ogrim, I am not pulling rank over _ hot leaf water _ . I have no claim. I stole it. For the thrill. And I’d do it again.”

“ _ She admits it!!! _ ”


	16. In Which Lemm Does Not Get His Tea Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pinky: This fic is a great blend of our styles. It's got Mons adorable setting and SUPER CUTE family relationships, and my... Uh... Hm.... Anyway. We've finally dropped... The F-Bomb! :O!!!  
> Mons: things have been a bit slow on my end, but we're still chugging along!

Despite outwards appearances, Hornet had no real desire to wind Lemm up. 

It was just, well, she didn’t need to  _ try  _ very hard.

Or at all. 

He was simply already like that.

Still, with a steaming cup of tea in his hands, and his shell on a comfortable seat, he seemed to be winding back down, just a little. 

Not enough to stop complaining, but he’d ceased his threats, at any rate; Earning her enough peace and quiet to catch up properly with Ogrim.

She had bought him up to speed quickly on present events, and so, as these conversations so tended to do, he turned back to the past.

“Ah…” The old knight sighed, "I remember when you were a little grub, and somehow you managed to sneak past all the chefs and crawl to the top of the pantry for the honey biscuits hidden there!" Turning to Hornet, he chuckled. "You've always been a mischief-maker, miss Hornet."

"Hm, yes, I feel as though my mischief capabilities have mellowed with time." She replied, giving Lemm an ever so subtle smug look. "Although I have my moments."

Lemm elected to stay quiet, returning her smug look with an absolutely murderous death glare.

Hornet had completely forgotten all about the old Stag until she heard the front porch creak slightly. She could only just barely catch him giving Ghost a goodbye, mentioning that he 'really must be going' and how he'd 'love to stay, but his duties' and whatnot. Then, she assumed he left. No matter, she could easily return to her conversation with Ogrim-

The front door slammed open as Ghost ran inside, little feet tapping on the wooden floor, practically throwing themselves at Ogrim. Well, so much for a calm, polite chat with him.

Hornet sipped her tea as Ogrim laughed, lifting the small vessel into the air. "Ah! The littlest Knight! I was wondering when you'd come say hello!"

Ghost excitedly wiggled in his grip, clearly very happy to see the dung beetle. "They remind me of you, in a way, miss Hornet." Ogrim chuckled, glancing at her.

"So I've been told." She said quietly.

Lemm, determined not to be forgotten, piped up. "Ah, that's my best source of relics. I have no idea where the little bugger  _ finds _ them all…  _ Especially _ the Arcane Eggs…"

"They're resourceful!" Ogrim replied, setting Ghost on his shoulder. "And a wonderful student!"

Ghost papped Ogrim's face, gesturing to be put down. Once their feet touched the floor, they rushed off to the living room, returning shortly with the wooden Tiktik squeaking behind them.

“Oho! The great warrior has a noble steed!”

They nodded, bouncing in place and holding up the toy for Ogrim to inspect. Lemm leaned over the table as well. "Remarkable craftsmanship," Lemm muttered. "Where'd you get your grubby little claws on something so well made?"

Hornet stared at him. "Why are you still here?"

"I haven't finished my tea and I'm not walking home alone in the cold."

How unfortunate.

"Anyway. If I can't force you to give me back my property, I can at least make my presence  _ your _ problem." 

"You underestimate my ability to throw you out, Relic Seeker." 

"To  _ die _ alone in the cold?" He said, snide voice gaining a dramatic hint, "Truly, your cruelty knows no bounds." 

Ghost left their toy in Ogrim's capable claws to twist around to stare at Hornet in horror at her little threat. 

Their little hands… Shook. 

And... Were… Were their eyes tearing up again..? 

"...  _ Fine _ ! He can stay!" 

The void threatening to spill from their eyes evaporated instantly and they practically jumped for joy, clapping.

… Stars above, they had her wrapped around their little finger. 

"Looks like the little one agrees." Lemm said smugly, draining his mug and slipping it underneath a pillow.

" _ Do  _ **_not_ ** _ do that in my house _ ." 

* * *

Once again, Ghost bore gifts. 

Two more scarfs,one for Ogrim and another for Lemm, produced with glee from under their cloak like multicoloured ribbons from a magician's sleeve.

"Well, what do we have here? Is this for me?" Ogrim chucked, taking his scarf with such flourish it seemed more like he was receiving a gift from the king than a child.

The great bug got down on one knee, taking the brown and gold scarf gently from Ghost's hands and wrapping it about his neck, finishing it off in an elaborate bow around his horns, to their great amusement.

They clapped and bounced and turned to Lemm with a sense of excitement that evaporated instantly when he took the grey and black gift with a simple grunt of "Thanks," Tucking it away under the sofa pillows- 

"Don't do that!" Hornet snapped, "Just hold onto it."

He froze, blinking. "I- Hold on- Doing  _ what _ ?"

" _ Stars above _ . You don't know you're doing it, do you?" 

Ghost silenced the brewing argument by slapping the furniture with their hands. 

_ That wasn't the response they wanted!  _

"Okay, okay!" Lemm pulled it on, wrapping it tight around his neck, forcing his furred ruff to puff out awkwardly. "It's… Comfortable."

_ Well… _ That was good enough for them!

There came a rustle from the chaotic nest behind the sofa. 

"Ah," Hornet said, "I suppose I should check on Quirrel." 

"Hoho, speaking of the old days,  _ that _ name brings me back!" Ogrim turned to watch as Hornet walked past to grab the hand that had clumsily emerged to pull its owner free from the tangle of cloth. "You may not remember, but the Teacher had a young assistant by the same-" He froze as Hornet pulled the old scholar free, "Stars above,  _ he’s still  _ **_alive_ ** _? _ "

"Save your congratulations, he's not well." 

"Ah." Ogrim nodded grimly, "I see-"

" _ Not like that! _ It's this ridiculous winter, it's making everyone  _ strange _ !” Hornet pointed harshly at Lemm, “Him! Me! This fool here!” With those last words, she gave Quirrel a little shake, “Why are you awake?"

“... _ Thirsty _ .”

"Water's in the kitchen. I should at least tell Hollow you're coming-"

Lemm frowned and grabbed her arm as she stood. "Wait, you? You're just as cruel as always...unless the cold has turned you into a  _ cold-blooded thief!" _

_ “I can show you how cruel I could truly be, Relic Seeker.” _

"No, you bloody well will  _ not _ ." Lemm was either very brave or extremely foolhardy. "You're claiming there's something mysteriously wrong with  _ me _ , I want to hear what's wrong with  _ you _ !"

"Silence. There's nothing wrong with me, it was a mere slip of the tongue." 

"Oh? Is that so?" Ogrim lent in with an air of amusement. "I distinctly remember you webbing up your entire bedroom, once upon a time, and spinning all your meals into balls of silk-"

" _ Silence _ ! Don't say that!" Hornet spun towards Lemm, levelling a finger at his face. "Don't listen, none of this is true-" She was cut off by the distinctive sound of somebody walking mask-first into a wall.

Ah. Quirrel was already gone. 

" _ Wh… _ " His voice drifted in from the corridor. "Where'd this come from..?"

“I need to help him.” Hornet said, quickly. “Ogrim, theoretically, if that had been happening, how would I clear it up?”

“I think you would eat it.”

“Noted.” 

Well she wasn't about to do  _ that. _ Instead she found Quirrel leaning against the wall, face-first, mumbling nonsense. 

"You're not going to find water in the wall, I hope you realize."

Quirrel pried himself from the wall, blinking at her in confusion. "...  _ Who put… This wall here?" _

Hornet put her hands on his shoulders to guide him into the kitchen. "Most likely the original architect."

_ "Hey I'm one of those…!" _

"No, you're an Archivist. Very different."

_ "And you're the princess!" _

She bristled. "Do not call me that." Pushing him into the kitchen and down into the chair, she grabbed a cup and filled it with water. "Here."

Quirrel took the cup with shaky hands.  _ "Thenk yoo."  _ He slurred, holding the cup to take a drink. Somehow, he missed his mouth and only succeeded in spilling water on the floor.

"How are you still alive?"

"With mmm…  _ Moxie _ ."

The second glass went down a little easier, with spillage only limited to Quirrel himself rather than the floor. 

"You're ridiculous. Hollow, how goes the cooking?" 

They flashed her a thumbs up from where they crouched over the stove, a universal gesture of  _ 'good' _ .

They shifted things safety away from the flames, and turned around, sweeping the recipe book from the counter as they went; Placing in front of her and tapping impatiently at the page.

Right, their missing ingredient. 

"... Quirrel, you wouldn't happen to know where they farmed aphids, would you?" 

"Oh, uh, hm. I dunno." He murmured, leaning so far forwards in thought he was practically face-down on the table. "Um....... Oh! On a  _ farm _ !" 

"... Thank you for your invaluable insight."

"Princess?" Ogrim poked his head in from the corridor. "Is everything okay in here? What's this talk o-" 

At the sight of Hollow, he stuttered to a halt. "I… You… You're…" The old Knight took in their apron, their spoon, their flour-covered mask. "I was  _ right _ ." He whispered, voice suddenly rising in joyous volume, _ "I  _ **_knew_ ** _ you weren't empty!" _ He crossed the room in quick strides, fast enough to make Hollow step back in turn; "My goodness, let me look at you. How wonderful! This is a true reunion!" 

Hollow didn't look truly uncomfortable, more  _ surprised _ than anything else, but at the sight of Ogrim, they, in turn, had snapped into a straight-backed salute; Something Hornet had not seen them do for a  _ very  _ long time indeed. 

Seeing that from them was not a bad thing, not really, but she didn’t like it, either. Hornet hooked Ogrim's arm to spin him towards her as a distraction. "Ogrim! Perhaps you can help; We're trying to figure out where they used to keep aphids; Hollow needs syrup for their recipe, but for the life of me, I can't recall."

"Oh, I can help you with that!" 

“Really?”

“Why, yes.” He seemed rather pleased. “When I was young, I used to make rounds between the farms to pick up…  _ Waste _ ,” Ogrim coughed, “... If you get my drift.”

“ _ I _ doooo.” Quirrel mumbled into the table, somehow still conscious. “He means  _ p- _ ”

“ _ I get it _ .”

“... I still remember where they were, if you’d like me to go looking.”

“ _ Yes _ , please.” Hornet said before Quirrel could pipe up again. “I’m terrible with animals.”

“Right you are, Princess.” The old knight stretched as he made his way into the hallway. “I’ll be just a tick, it isn’t very far.” 

The unoiled hinges of their front door screeched, and Ogrim was gone. 

“... Hollow, are you okay?”

They shrugged, turning swiftly back to their bowl.

"He doesn't work for our father anymore. He's just a friend, not your superior; Not anymore." 

They faltered a little. 

Hollow understood, they  _ did _ , but drilled-in habits and old respect died hard. It was strange, was all. 

Hornet stepped up to put a hand on their shoulder. "I should have told you he was here, I'm sorry. I didn't want to disturb your work." 

Hollow twisted a little, and rested their chin between her horns in as close a hug they could manage with one arm juggling a bowl of batter and the other long-missing. 

Hornet wrapped her arms around their waist, as high as she could reach, watching through one eye as Quirrel dragged himself from his seat and started back towards the living room, leaving them to their moment. " _ 'M going back to bed…" _

* * *

Ghost sat and watched Lemm. 

Lemm sat and tried to ignore Ghost watching him. 

"What are you looking at? Can't a bug sit in peace?" 

Usually, a bug  _ could _ sit in peace, but at some point between letting Lemm have a look at their toy and stopping to watch Ogrim leave the room, their wooden Tiktik had disappeared. 

And Ghost had their suspicions as to where it had gone, but unlike Hornet, they could not shout and grumble until it was relinquished.

They also didn't particularly  _ want _ to do that, because when  _ they _ did that, other bugs  _ (Mainly Hornet) _ called it a 'tantrum'.

"Do you want something? More of  _ my _ tea? Well, you'll have to get it yourself, because that great big  _ oaf _ of a knight-" Ghost shut him up with a thrown pillow.

Talking about Hollow like that was  _ banned. _ " _ Ow,  _ fine _.  _ That  _ wonderful bug _ out there has banned me." 

On the contrary, they just wanted him to  _ move, _ but if he wasn't going to move himself, they would  _ make _ him.

Lemm wasn't sure to be grateful when Quirrel stumbled out of the hallway, holding something behind his back, dragging the little one's attention away from Lemm.  _ "Heyyyy little one!"  _ He slurred, swaying slightly as he stepped around Ghost - Keeping whatever was behind his back hidden.  _ "It's your favorite uncle Quirrel!" _

"My Gods." Lemm chuckled, sitting back to enjoy the show. "You're barely standing! Go back to bed, you old fool."

_ "YOU're an oold fool!"  _ Quirrel, spat, giving Lemm what could be considered a 'glare'. Then, he turned his attention back to Ghost.  _ "I found this preeetty package on the table with your name on it!" _

_ Ooooooooh _ .

A package! Another  _ gift _ _!_ They could dislodge Lemm later, for now, they had more important things to attend to; And they knew their sweet little Tiktik would survive during the interim. 

Ghost raised their arms, flexing their fingers in the universally recognised signal for  _ 'Gimmie!'  _

_ "It's from Elllderbug,"  _ Quirrel crowed obliviously, pulling it from behind his back and almost dropping it in the process, not noticing as Ghosts hand grabbing and arm-waving grew more frantic. 

"And how do you know that?" Lemm asked with a chuckle as they began to hop up and down. "Has your…  _ State _ given you psychic abilities or something?" 

_ "'Says _ 'From Elderbug'  _ on it." _

"... Ah. Right. Well, hand it over to the poor blighter before they explode." 

"I dunno… Am I your  _ favourite _ Quirrel..?" 

They only had one Quirrel, so yes. But he would be  _ even more _ their favourite if he handed over their gift!

Ghost nodded and bounced and clapped, Quirrel umming and erring exaggeratedly as they flailed. "Well, I  _ suppose… _ " He lowered it just enough, and, taking their chance, Ghost snatched it from his slack fingers, scurrying out of reach before he could change his mind.

Paper flew as they tore it apart to reveal a little wooden box, which they yanked open with as much force as they could manage, sending the contents scattering. 

Something small clattered across the floor to rest near Lemm's feet. 

“Oh, well lookie here!” The old bug said smugly, slipping from his seat and stooping to pick up their escaped gift. “Look at this lovely  _ ownerless  _ little thing I’ve found. I think I’ll keep it.”

_ No!!! _

Ghost hurdled the coffee table in a desperate scramble to get their paws on the precious object before it disappeared along with seemingly everything  _ else  _ Lemm touched. 

Every time they looked at him there were less loose objects on the table and more displaced pillows on the sofa. 

They skidded under his hand, belly down, paws clutching their gift. 

"Looks like you got it before me, shame."

Still lying down, Ghost parted their fingers to take a peek. 

It was a little wooden…  _ Thing _ ! 

They had no idea what it was, but it was theirs. Ghost presented the Thing to Quirrel for help.

Quirrel squinted. "... Uh, that's yours."

"I'll be more than happy to take it off your hands!" Lemm offered, voice still with hints of smugness.

Ghost shook their head, once again holding it up for Quirrel.

"Okay…" He took it gently from their hands and set it upon the table. 

The little token, whatever it was, was an odd, uneven shape; Something like a circular diamond, pointed on the top and bottom and rounded around the widest edge; Failing to balance on its pointy bottom and falling to the side, the round edge hitting the table and allowing it to spin in a lazy circle with a gentle rumbling clatter.

Quirrel stopped it, pinching the top point between two fingers and lifting it to balance on its end once more. 

Then, with a sharp twist of the wrist, he sent it spinning. 

Ghost waited patiently for it to fall over again.

But it… Didn't? 

It just… Continued to spin? 

How was it doing that? 

Lemm snorted as they lent in closer, planting both paws against the table in order to bring their eyes as close as possible. "Of course the little blighter would be fascinated by a  _ spinning top." _

“It  _ is  _ very spinny…” Quirrel nodded, eyes fixed on the toy. " _ Wheeee… _ " 

"... Please go to sleep." 

* * *

Hollow had become a little less secretive. 

Not by much, but enough to allow Hornet to watch them work.

They were making bowl after bowl of batter, burning through their ingredients but seemingly enjoying themselves so much, Hornet would never be able to bring herself to stop them.

She also couldn't bring herself to ask what they were  _ doing _ with all the batter, as whenever they filled the bowl, they simply slipped it under their cloak, and pulled it out again, clean and empty. 

She supposed, so long as they produced something edible, it was okay. 

Hornet found herself pulled out of her thoughts by a knock on the door, which quickly devolved into a furious hammering within the mere seconds it took to slip from her seat on the table to the floor. 

Hollow had stopped mixing and stood staring towards the door with a worried stiffness to their form. 

"... That must be Ogrim." Hornet lied, as their visitor began to yell. "Don't worry, I'll deal with it." 

She jogged out of the kitchen, quickly falling into a run as the hammering and shouting increased in urgency, sliding to a stop on the wooden floor and yanking the front door open with a screeching of hinges. 

_ "What in the-  _ Oh _ ,  _ good lord." 

Tiso stood in the doorway, fist still raised and breath ragged from shouting, the basket she had given him hanging limp and empty from one flagging shoulder. 

He was trembling, slouched, legs uneven and shifting as if he was struggling to stay standing. 

None of that mattered to Hornet. 

Because every snatch of skin, every visible joint, was a violent and luminescent  _ orange _ .

"You never mentioned..." He gasped, shoving the empty basket into her hands  _ " _ That those stupid cores... _ Would turn me  _ **_fucking orange!_ ** " 


	17. Tiso Gets Vitamin Poisoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pinky: Hornet's only worry throughout this entire incident was about how she'd clean Tiso's entrails from the carpet  
> Mon: There's a reason why Ghost can't wear Thorns of Agony inside the house

Hornet instinctively took a step back as Tiso swayed unsteadily on his own two feet. Stars above, she felt  _ bad _ for him. "I-I didn't know they would! Quirrel briefly mentioned vitamin poisoning but I merely assumed-"

"Do you know what happens when you assume?" Tiso hissed, trying to nonchalantly lean on the doorway. "You make an  _ ass _ out of  _ you  _ and  _ me. _ " Then, he blinked, realizing what she had said. "P-Poison? Did you say  _ poison?!  _ Am I going to die?!"

"Tiso, you are one of the most resilient bugs I've ever met, second only to Zote." Hornet assured, taking pity on him. "Come inside, I'll get you some tea and wake Quirrel up."

He frowned and tried to stand up straight despite his trembling. ".... Why are you being nice to me?"

"Because you're pathetic, and if you died, Ghost would never forgive me. Get inside before you keel over on my doorstep."

“Fine! But you better fix this!”

Tiso shambled inside, feet catching on everything from the dusty old welcome mat Ghost refused to remove, to the stolen rug, and any furniture he passed along the way; Pushing past Hornet to drag his way into the living room, shield hanging limply from his elbow as if he’d forgotten it. 

There was the thump of Tiso-on-sofa, a pause, and then… “What the hell are you guys doing? Who’s the old dude?”

Interest piqued, Hornet stuck her head around the doorframe. 

Tiso appeared to have flopped backward over the arm of the sofa, legs sticking awkwardly over the end and directly into the way of the door. He was staring at Ghost, Quirrel and Lemm, who appeared to have been interrupted in the midst of… 

… Sitting in a circle and staring at a rapidly rotating piece of wood?

“Good lord, a  _ punk _ ?” Lemm glanced at Hornet, “This place is a menagerie.” 

_ “Who’s the old bug??” _

_ “I’ll show you ‘old’-” _

_ “-Stop it.” _ Hornet snapped, “Lemm, this is Tiso. Tiso, this is Lemm, don’t be rude. Quirrel, you should be in bed, however, I’m glad you’re not, because Tiso’s given himself vitamin poisoning.” 

“I did not  _ give  _ it to myself!”

“Oh,  _ really _ .” She gave him a look. “How many did you eat?” 

“Uh…” Tiso at least had the dignity to look a little ashamed. “I… It was… I was hungry...” He coughed. “Thirty…” 

“You were supposed to hand them out!”

“I did! There were just a bunch left over!” He gestured wildly. “So I had some for dinner! And breakfast, and… And lunch… And also training snacks… And… And then I turned  _ orange _ !”

“... Wow," Quirrel murmured, shuffling over on his knees and giving one of Tiso’s inflamed, orange patches a poke. “You should be dead! That’s enough to kill a Dirtcarver three times over.”

“ _ WHAT _ ?”

* * *

Hollow could hear shouting. 

The visitor, while familiar in voice, was not Ogrim the Defender, treasured knight of their Father. 

They supposed -  _ guiltily _ \- that was good. 

He was nice, sure, they even felt that, perhaps, they would  _ like  _ him; But the sight of his face made them feel as if they were seconds from training. Made them itch for a nail to defend themselves with. 

It would be fine, in time. 

But if not him, then who? 

Hollow glanced at the door, and then to their bowl. 

At this point, they had probably made enough. Their maths weren’t perfect, but they were fairly sure they would be able to serve an ample meal to everyone in the house. Now, they just needed to wait for their final ingredient, and then they could get  _ cooking _ . 

They could take a quick break, drink some more tea, watch Ghost run laps with their toy as Hornet kept their guests entertained.

Hollow placed their spoon carefully down and reached for the kettle. 

Yes, they would do that. 

After all, they had been standing for  _ ages _ . 

And they deserved to rest their legs, right? They had the power,  _ the choice _ , to do that! To take a moment, calm down, drink a hot drink, relax! 

How wonderful it was!

So they did just that. Hollow poured themself a cup of tea, intent on joining the rest of the bugs in the living room. They thought about thanking Lemm for the tea, but he also called them an oaf, so maybe not.

Either way, they were a little excited to join in proceedings on their own terms. 

After all, there certainly seemed to be _ something _ going on.

It was… 

_ Loud. _

Hollow tried to hurry the kettle along with focused thought. 

Boil faster! 

They wanted to see what was happening!

* * *

Ghost had ignored Tiso's arrival. 

They recognized he was there,  _ sure, _ but they hadn't looked up, or anything. 

After all, the spinny top was still going! It mystified them. 

How did it stay up? 

They didn't know, yet they couldn't look away!

Maybe it was magic.

Finally, the little wooden token slowed down and clattered to a stop; Ghost finally tuning back into the conversation as it finished its final lazy spins.

"- What kind of stupid poisonous food turns you  _ orange _ ?"

"I don't know! It's vitamins! It's all we had!"

…

…  _ Orange? _

With their toy rolling to a stop, Ghost slowly lifted their head. 

Orange.  _ Orange _ .  **_Orange!_ **

Tiso was lounging on their sofa, blazing orange from every joint, grumbling and groaning like an ill-tempered husk.

Oh no no no no, he was  _ infected. _

Ghost was on their feet within moments. 

_ They needed their nail. _

_ They needed it  _ **_now._ **

Acting purely on instinct, they sprinted for the front door where their nail was being hung on the wall.

They passed Hollow closely in the doorway, almost bowling through their legs and forcing them to leap out of the way, tea sloshing.

Hollow watched them go with a sense of confusion and stuck their head around the doorframe curiously. 

They laid eyes on Tiso, and their mug tumbled from their shocked fingers; Shattering upon impact with the floor and sending tea and ceramic flying as they scrambled off after their sibling.

"Just put that cup anywhere, then." Lemm muttered sarcastically.

Hornet stood and turned to them. "Hollow? What's wrong?"

But they were already gone. 

A metallic crash echoed into the room, the sound of the umbrella stand they kept their weapons in hitting the ground and scattering its contents over the floor.

Tiso groaned, pulling a pillow over his head. "What the hell's wrong with them?" 

Hornet put herself between the ailing bug and the doorway. "I think they're going to stab you." 

_ "What?”  _ Tiso scoffed. “If they wanted to fight, they should’ve asked! Sick or not, I’m always down for a fight!”

"No, you would die." She replied, already thinking about how to stop the impending scuffle. "You can barely stand on your own."

"Are you saying I'm weak?"

Growing frustrated at his lack of understanding, Hornet hissed, "No, I'm saying you resemble an infected husk! A touchy topic around Ghost and Hollow!"

Tiso paused, thinking. "Ah. I suppose I  _ do _ resemble a husk, hm?"

"He's not very bright, is he?" Lemm added.

“Why would that matter, anyway?” Tiso asked, ignoring him. “I know it’s a bad look, but that’s ridiculous! I’m still,  _ obviously _ , fine.” He levered himself up on his elbows and started to attempt to leave the sofa. "Out the way, I'll show 'em."

_ "What? No!" _ Hornet tried to push him back down, "No. No, do not. Stay there."

It was at that point that Ghost and Hollow burst back into the room.

The pair almost bowled Hornet right over, not only heavily armed but heavily  _ charmed.  _

Hornet had to think and act quickly. Ghost could potentially be reasoned with; if they truly thought Tiso was infected, then she could bring up that Myla, Bretta, and Sly were infected at one point and they were fine (more or less). Hollow? Hollow would not be swayed so easily.

"Put the nails down." Hornet commanded, hoping they'd listen. They didn't.

Ghost paused in attacking their friend, but the taller vessel had no hesitation.

Tiso barely managed to jump out of the way before Hollow sliced into the couch, stuffing flying everywhere.

"I THINK THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL ME!" Tiso screamed, scrambling to avoid even more slashes.

Lemm stood, taking his tea and himself out of danger and heading to the kitchen. "Oh?! Oh you think so?!"

Tiso stumbled back, tripping over the coffee table onto his back as Hollow advanced, barely managing to roll onto his hands and knees to avoid another slash.

Ghost rushed after their sibling, only for Hornet to grab them by the horn and fling them back into a wall “Stop it! Both of y-”

_ The room filled with  _ **_thorns_ ** _. _

“-Ghost!  _ I told you not to wear that in the house!” _ Hornet shrieked as she found the hem of her cloak shredded, the furniture meeting a similar fate in the whirl as the other bugs in range scrambled wildly to dodge.

Hollow took a lashing thorn to the back unblinkingly, kicking the remains of the coffee table from their path as they continued to push towards Tiso. 

The poor bug had worn himself out trying to scramble away, his breath falling to puffs and wheezes as he tried to pull himself upright with a blessedly untouched armchair, only succeeding in falling back into the seat. “W- Wait- Please-  _ Time out _ -!” 

They raised their nail above their head, the deadly, polished point aimed directly for Tiso’s belly; Looking for all the world like some terrible hunter.

Hornet was barely succeeding in restraining Ghost, trying to wrestle their charms out of their mask before they destroyed the room. “Hollow! No!” 

She would never make it in time. 

Hollow bought their nail down like a chisel. There was no doubt, with the strength of her sibling and the weight of their weapon, that it would punch through Tiso and out the other side; Splitting the stolen old armchair and driving deep into the floor. 

And Hornet could only  _ watch _ , arms wrapped around a struggling Ghost, too far,  _ too far _ , to even begin moving, her needle and thread and all the tricks and traps she owned forgotten in her room where they posed no help at all.

Tiso was going to die. 

Not only was he going to die at the hands of her sibling, in the one safe place she had in the world, but he was going to make a  _ hideous mess _ as he went. 

At least, he  _ was _ , until a wall of scarlet flame split the room. 

Hollow jerked backwards, overbalancing over the splinters of the coffee table and falling onto their butt as an apparition of black and red glided into the room, followed swiftly by… A small miner? 

“Well, well, well, what a performance!” Grimm crooned, stepping into the center of the room as his fire raged and the wallpaper began to peel. “My sweet child begged to see their playmate, and how fortuitous they did, for we seem to have arrived at the climax of the scene!”

Ghost twisted from Hornet’s shock-slackened grip to run to their newly arrived friends. Grimm and Myla! How exciting! Maybe they could help?

“Mr. Grimm,” Myla asked, “I th- thought we were following the crazy orange bug?”

“My dear, what did I tell you about the rules of showbiz?” 

“Oh- R- Right! I meant, yes,  _ how fortuitous! _ ” 

“What?” To her credit, Hornet recovered quickly. “You are _ burning my house down _ .”

"Oh, worry not." Grimm muttered, almost casually, snapping his fingers. The flames vanished, their only trace being the slight burns on the furniture and walls and a massive black line across the carpet.

Grimm traced it with his eyes, humming in thought. “Really, It adds character.” 

Hollow began to heave themselves to their feet again, only for the Troupemaster to push them back down with a foot. “Now, now. Let’s not be hasty! This poor fool is no infected beast!”

“That’s what I was  _ trying  _ to say!” Hornet grabbed Ghost by the horn once more and dragged them next to Hollow, sternly sitting them down on the floor. “You’ve both trashed the house in the pursuit of an  _ idiot  _ who has  _ dyed himself orange _ ; Not an infected bug!”

Ghost scratched at the ground with their nail in shame, while Hollow just stared; Either in shock or disbelief, mask straying past her to stare at the blessedly  _ silent  _ Tiso. “Both of you, drop your weapons and your charms,  _ now _ .” 

Ghost at least did as they were asked, meekly and obediently dropping a small pile of trinkets into Hornet’s outstretched palm, boosts to their strength and speed, mostly, along with that terrible thorn charm they so often favoured in battle, and kicking their nail in her direction with a foot, practically disappearing into their cloak in guilt. 

Hollow did not move. 

_ "Hollow." _

Their fingers tightened around the hilt of their massive weapon.

"Hollow, you just tried to kill a - debatably - innocent, uninfected bug.  _ Drop the nail. _ "

"I don't think they believe you, youngling." Grimm whispered. For once, Hornet didn't protest the comment on age; Who knew how old the Troupemaster was, truly.

Hornet groaned. “Right. Let’s take this one step at a time, then.” She turned to Ghost. “Sibling? Remind me, who defeated the Radiance again?”

Ghost pointed to themselves quite proudly, puffing their chest.

“Correct.” She turned to Grimm. “You’re a Higher Being, Grimm, have you sensed the Radiance’s presence?”

Grimm chuckled, amused by the antics with the godlings. “Why no, I have not! No trace of her in the slightest.”

“Correct again! So, siblings, answer this,” she continued, speaking slowly. “If the Radiance is gone and defeated,  _ why would there be an infection? _ ”

Hollow continued to be silent and still, but their grip on their nail loosened slightly.

Grimm glanced back at Tiso, who was still silent. “Is he dead?”

“I think he fainted,” Myla replied, lifting Tiso’s hand and letting it fall. “Fainted from fright.”

“I do have that effect, occasionally.” The Troupemaster crooned, sounding a strange mix of proud and disappointed. “Though I shudder to think what occurred before our entrance.”

“I think he’s a fool.” Hornet answered. “Leave him there, at least he’s quiet.” Turning back to Ghost and Hollow, she hissed. “When he wakes up, I expect apologies from the both of you. He may be a jerk, but that’s no excuse. And I want this place cleaned up by the time I get back from making Grimm a tea-”

“Oh, there’s no need, I don’t plan on staying that long.”

In any other situation, Hornet would have been relieved to hear those words, but instead, she was worried. “Why not?”

“Why, it’s a show night!” His cape flared, showing off the elaborate ringmaster’s attire underneath. “... And I have need of your young sibling’s services once more.”

“Again?” Hornet asked. “We are not babysitters, you can’t do this  _ every time _ you have a show! The last thing we need in this house right now is a godling.” 

“There are already  _ many  _ godlings in this house, my dear.” Grimm turned to Ghost, “Let us make a deal, dear child! You know my terms- Name your price.” 

Ghost tilted their head, then reached under their cloak and produced  _ another  _ of Hornet’s honey candies, tapping it against Grimm’s palm a handful of times, their own little way of indicating numbers. 

“The contract is set.” The troupemaster said, “I will deliver my end of the deal when I pick up the Child later.” 

Ghost nodded, eating the sweet and holding their arms out. 

"Do not." Hornet said, "You're in trouble already, do  _ not  _ take the Child, Ghost, I'm  _ warning _ you-" 

Grimm produced the sleeping Grimmchild from under his cloak and passed it into their waiting arms. 

"The contract is  _ sealed, _ young Beast." Grimm said, beginning to sweep from the room. "The stage awaits, I can assure you they will be well-behaved in the interim." 

"No, it isn't!" Hornet stalked after him. "I know how contracts work; You will take back your child  _ right now _ , or so help me-"

_ "Come along, miss Myla!"  _ Grimm called over her. 

_ "-Don't  _ **_ignore_ ** _ me-"  _

"Oh! R- Right!" Myla waved to Ghost as she rushed to catch up with Grimm. "Um, good luck! The Troupe's strongbug is sick, s-so Mr. Grimm is letting me fill in!" 

"On the contrary, you are doing me a great favour." He held open his cloak. "Goodbye, young Hornet. I believe you can handle the situation from here." Myla stepped into Grimm's cloak, and in a twist of flame, the two were gone. 

_ "GET BACK HERE!" _ Hornet shouted after them, her voice falling on nothing but the snow. With a furious huff, she turned on her heel and stalked back into the living room. 

"Both of you, to your rooms, _now._ I am _infuriated_! How dare you try and hurt someone, _fool or not_ , in our home? Do you really think so lowly of me, that I would bring the infection, if it even still existed, _here_? Home? After _everything_ I've done to make this place safe!? Do you truly think that would be _more likely_ than a fool turning himself orange?" Under the force of her tarade, both siblings shrank in upon themselves, Ghost holding Grimmchild close like a toy, while Hollow pulled their knees to their chest and averted their gaze; Finally relinquishing their weapon with a thud. "Go, both of you. I need to clear up the mess you've made." The pair shuffled despondently out of the room. "And Ghost, if you're going to insist on taking the Grimmchild every time you're asked, start bargaining for Geo. Now go."

Hornet headed for the kitchen, grumbling under her breath. In the kitchen, she found Lemm under the table. "Is the fire monster gone?"

She felt her blood pressure rise but attempted to keep her voice low.  _ "Why. Are you. Still here?" _

"You took my tea, now I'm your problem!"

"Oh, I'll give you a  _ 'problem' _ in a minute," Hornet hissed, "Get out of there."

"I, ah…  _ Can't _ ." Lemm muttered sheepishly. “I was waiting for you to come in here and help me.”

"...You  _ can’t?” _ She didn’t have time for this. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

"...Listen. I'm not as spry as I used to be. I got down here on impulse and... Now I can't get back out." 

"...You're stuck under the table." Hornet said. "That's your problem, I don't care. It'll keep you out of the way."

"Wh-  _ Young lady- _ " Lemm spluttered, "You ought to have some respect-" 

_"Do not talk down to me, Relic Seeker."_ She ground out, "I am _older_ than you, I know _more_ than you, I am _very busy_ , and I am _not_ _enough of a fool to get stuck under a table!"_ Hornet stormed past him, throwing open a cupboard and digging inside for cleaning supplies. "If you haven't freed yourself by the time I'm finished cleaning up the _mess_ my siblings made, I'll consider helping you." 

"You are _ not  _ older than me." 

"I am one of the oldest beings living in this town, Relic Seeker; beaten only by my siblings, who have no life experience and no  _ sense _ , and Quirrel, whose memory is so faulty he hardly knows which way is up." She finally found what she was digging for, dragging out a bucket and some soap. 

Finding the kettle still hot, Hornet filled the bucket quickly, grabbed a broom, and left the room. 

"Good day to you,  _ young man." _


	18. Hollow's Apology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pinky: Oh, poor Hollow... This is so sad, Alexa-  
> Mons: Hollow it's OK! You only tried to murder tiso it's fine

Hollow paced. 

And paced. 

_And paced._

They felt bad. They felt really, _really_ bad, and the audible sound of Hornet clearing up downstairs; Grunting and scrubbing and scraping; Only made them feel _worse_.

They had made a huge mistake! Hornet wasn't going to keep them around after this! They had ignored orders, they had assumed the worst even when it was _impossible_ , they had tried to hurt someone their siblings cared about! 

Oh no, they knew what this meant, they knew this kind of error wasn't going to go unpunished, _no_ , Hornet was going to _discard_ them. 

They half felt she should. 

They felt like they were going to cry. 

For some reason, Ghost didn't seem to care about their collective banishment. They had merely shrugged their shoulders, shifted the Grimmchild within their arms, and entered their room, disappearing for a few minutes, before knocking on Hollow's door, waltzing in with their sleeping charge and hopping onto their large sibling's bed without a care in the world; Perching on the edge of the blankets to watch Hollow as they worried and paced and piled their few possessions where they could grab them easily; Ready to leave the second Hornet gave the word. 

Did they not understand? This was it! Their little family would surely soon be over! They were going to be discarded! D-I-S-C-A-R-D-E-D!!

Ghost rummaged around in their cloak, pulling out a sheet of paper, with the orange ant’s likeness scribbled upon it. Ah! Of course! An apology letter!

A decent plan to dull their inevitable punishment, to be sure, but it wouldn't be enough. 

Ghost didn't understand, it was clear, but Hollow would take a break from their desperate packing to indulge them. They were so small, so innocent, so _pure._ Maybe Hollow would be able to convince Hornet to only kick them out, and not their tiny sibling. A long shot, maybe.

Hollow took the card, finding Ghost's 'apology' already inside.

It boiled down, essentially, to _'Very sorry but no harm done_ _'_ , with a sharp pinch of _'Everyone tried to kill me and I'm okay '_

… Hollow really had their work cut out for them if they wanted to dull their punishment. 

That was no way to apologize!

They dug out a quill and an inkwell and got to work. 

They were sorry. 

They were sorry because they had panicked. 

They were sorry because they had seen something scary and they had acted rashly and they were _sorry_ they should have stopped and listened and trusted Hornet and they _didn't want to go-_

Black drops rained, smudging their words to near illegibility. 

They were crying.

They didn't want to go! They wanted to stay in their home, with their family! 

They had grown too complacent, their behavior no longer tempered by their father's presence and threats, and look at where it had landed them!

Ghost had hopped from their perch, perhaps finally understanding the situation, to hug their larger sibling as hard as they could; Stubby arms hardly reaching around their torso. 

Hollow pushed the card away, sparing it from further tears. 

They had nothing else to write, their heart already bare. 

They could only hope it was enough. 

* * *

As Hornet scrubbed and scrapped at the floor, she was beginning to believe the burn marks would never go away. But just as she was about to give up and move to the burns on the walls, eventually the blackened ash began to scrub clean.

Thank. Gods.

All she had to do was clean up the rest of the floor burns, then the burns on the wall, then the burns on the ceiling, then the torn up couches, then her torn up cloak - Stars Above, her siblings (and Grimm) made quite the mess.

Despite the large mess she had to clean up, Hornet found herself thinking. Thinking about how she _might_ have been a little hard on them. Granted, they shouldn't have attacked a bug without asking questions - And she repeatedly told Ghost to _not_ wear that Thorn charm in the house - But she couldn't fault them too much.

They were simply acting on old instincts.

How would she have reacted if she wasn’t aware of the poisoning? Just as bad, most likely. She would definitely have to talk to them.

… After she cleaned up.

…

… However long _that_ would take. 

_A time-out upstairs would be punishment enough, for now_ , she thought, _and if the cleaning took too long, she would have them finish up for her after their talk._

Yes, that seemed reasonable enough. 

She was upset, yes, but the blame for the incident did not rest squarely on her sibling’s shoulders; And she’d be a hypocrite and a fool if she didn’t admit that.

She should have at least _warned_ them. 

Or perhaps _Quirrel_ should have warned her that those stupid cores could turn you _orange_. 

Forget about mere _poisoning_ , that seemed like such an important detail to leave out! 

Speaking of Quirrel, he'd completely passed out again, thank goodness. 

Hornet swept him back into his silly nest with the broom, rolling the old bug like a log.

_“Wheeeee…”_

Ah. _Almost_ completely passed out. Her mistake. “You’re _ridiculous_ ,” Hornet muttered as she got back to scrubbing. “ _‘Whee’_ indeed.”

* * *

Hollow looked over the apology note for what felt like the hundredth time. It had gone through several rewrites (and several crying fits) before Hollow felt satisfied with it.

Ghost hadn't shown much attention to the apology letter, letting Hollow do the writing while they entertained the demon spawn.

The horrid little thing had woken up at some point and had immediately set about lighting things on fire between bouts of vicious chewing. 

Ghost was well-practiced in keeping the Child occupied and had sacrificed a stick to it to keep its mouth busy, which Hollow appreciated a little. 

They did not appreciate allowing the soot-covered beast onto their clean bedsheets, but they had enough on their plate already, with their ongoing efforts to _pack_.

The apology card had diverted them for too long. They needed to get it together. 

The problem was… They had nothing to pack anything _in_. 

Unless… Their soiled sheets could still be of use after all? 

Hollow _shoo'd_ Ghost's charge from their bed, stripping their sheets. 

Yes, yes, they could wrap their worldly possessions up, and carry them that way! 

Perhaps they could even tie the bundle to the end of their nail and sling it over their shoulder, like the wandering bugs in the cute little grub's picture books Ghost favoured so much.

They'd always found those little books rather idyllic. Maybe they'd even enjoy it! A life on the road! No responsibilities, no expectations, no… 

No home… _No family…_

**_No food…_ **

Aaaannnnnnd… They were crying again. 

Oh, _no_ , their cooking! If they were leaving, all their preparations would go to waste!

They hoped that Hornet would accept their apology letter. That Hornet would graciously let them continue to live there and cook.

They would cook for _her_ if nothing else! They had been freeloading for too long as it was, perhaps she would be willing to keep them around as help around the house?

Hollow scuttled to the apology letter, trying to squeeze that extra plea in along with the rest. 

Goodness, they had covered it inside and out with text; Ghost’s words acting as nothing more than a foreword to their tear-stained begging.

But it still wasn’t enough. _They were so sorry._

There came a sharp knock on their door. 

_Hornet._

“I know you’re both in there.” She said, “Get out, and bring the Child, I refuse to put out any more fires.”

Oh no no no, they hadn’t finished the card! Their words weren’t convincing enough, she’d never keep them, and they hadn’t even finished packing!

Hollow and Ghost looked at each other. Hollow made a gesture to their smaller sibling, trying to get them to stall. 

Ghost stared at them for a moment, before turning to the door to let Hornet in.

Hollow wasn't prepared to see their sister. They hadn't finished their apology letter nor finished packing for when she inevitably kicked them out. So they did the only logical thing they could think of on such short notice.

They grabbed the remaining sheets and threw them over their head. 

It wasn't a _good_ plan, just the best one they could think of.

“Is that Hollow hiding under the blankets again?” Hornet asked.

_No, no Hollow here. Just blankets._

_If they couldn't see her, she couldn't see them._

They began to inch behind the bed. 

"Hollow."

They continued to crawl. 

"Hollow, stop."

_No. They were one with the blankets now._

Ghost watched Hollow shuffle blindly behind their bed, and turned back to Hornet; Moving swiftly to grab the soggy, chicken scratched card and primly presenting it to her. 

"... What's this? It's wet." She turned it to inspect the… _Interesting_ illustration of Tiso on the front. "...Why does he have crosses for eyes?"

Ghost tapped her arm impatiently, miming for her to open the card. "Okay, okay."

A tense silence fell over the room as she opened the card to read it. 

Hornet scanned the first few lines quickly, pausing with a huff to say "Ghost, this is the _worst_ apology I have ever read in my _life-_ " 

She was interrupted once again, this time by the sad thunk of Hollow's head hitting the carpet in despair, and ever more violent arm tapping from Ghost.

_"Okay, okay!"_ She continued reading, "I don't see how this can help… Your… _Case…_ " Her sentence stumbled to an uncharacteristically inelegant stop as she read. " _Oh_."

"Oh, _Hollow_ ." She discarded the card, crossing the room in a few steps to approach the trembling sheet lump. "Hollow, no. I'd never get _rid_ of you." She pulled back the sheet to reveal their tearstained face, as gently as she could manage. "It's _okay_. You're not here for your utility, you're here because we're siblings, we're _family,_ I…" She paused. "I _love_ you. We all do. You're allowed to make mistakes." 

"... I'll admit," Hornet added, "This was a big one- But!" She cried as Hollow began to sob harder, "It turned out okay! No one was hurt! Honestly, I quite prefer Tiso when he's fainted, he's rather quiet and well behaved. I bet he won't even remember what happened."

Hollow sniffed, their sobs sounding more akin to the gurgling of water than the voice of a bug. 

"If you want to make up for it, come down and clear up your mess. You should really be apologizing to Tiso, honestly.”

Hollow nodded glumly, shedding the sheet and wiping their eyes on their forearm, hauling to their feet with a drawn-out _sniff_. 

"There, there." Hornet said, "Let's go. You too, Ghost! Don't think you're innocent." 

Ghost tilted their head, pointing at sleepy Grimmchild; Almost saying, _'They were taking care of the Child. They were already busy.'_

"Take them with you. You are _equally_ responsible for this and I am not having Hollow clear up alone." 

Ghost grumbled, making a show of unwillingly bundling the Grimmchild in their arms and trudging off after their sibling, stomping down the hall to thud down the stairs. 

Hornet could only imagine how high they had to lift their knees to stamp so loudly. 

* * *

Tiso awoke slowly, and he assumed that was a good thing, otherwise, his splitting headache would come for him at full force instead of seeping into his brain.

_Ugh._ It felt like all the wind had been sucked out of his lungs. But at least he was comfortable. Sitting on a strange chair, maybe. He didn't bother opening his eyes to see.

Anyway, he felt way too _cozy_. He was being hugged tightly across his chest, the terrible warmth he’d been feeling since he overindulged on those stupid cores whicked away by his cuddly, slightly shifting surroundings. 

Slightly… Shifting…

Oh, he was being held! 

Ah. Perhaps he had died, and now, in the afterlife, he found himself in the arms of an _adoring babe_ , mourning his _brave sacrifice_ ; As he so deserved! 

Oh, _yes_.

Eagerly, he cracked one eye open; He wasn’t sitting quite upright, more slumped to the side than anything, his shoulders resting against the supporting arm of his indistinct, blurry admirer. 

Wait. 

Tiso blinked a little harder, shaking his head a little to rid it of leftover, drowsy cobwebs; The blurriness was his eyes, not the other bug. 

And the other bug, staring down at him with concern from on high, was _not_ a hot babe. 

_It was Hollow_.

And the last time Tiso had been stared down by Hollow, there was a nail in their hand and _death_ in their eyes. 

So, bravely and naturally, he shrieked at the sight of them and kicked them in the face. _“AAAAAAAAAAANOOO NOT_ **_AGAIN-_ ** _"_


	19. She's A Real Bean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mons: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH HORNET'S A LESS BEAN  
> Pinky: In this house we love and respect our beans

"Could you  _ not?" _ Hornet snapped from across the room, hardly looking up from her sweeping. "Otherwise I'll knock you unconscious again."

Tiso blinked, pausing in his struggling. "What?" 

He took in the scene, Hornet sweeping splinters away, Ghost furiously scrubbing at a burnt patch of carpet as if it had personally insulted them, and Hollow,  _ the great killing machine _ , gently cradling him like a baby.

" _ You _ were just trying to kill me." He hissed, pointing upwards at their giant face. 

Hollow wilted as Hornet spoke. "Yes, and they feel very bad about it; Calm yourself, this is their apology."

" _ I WILL NOT-" _

"-Hollow, try rocking him, that always calms Ghost." 

“I AM NOT A GRUB!”

Hornet tilted her head in surprise. “Really? Sometimes you certainly act like one.”

“I am  _ not  _ a grub - and call off your sibling! Put me down!!” He snarled, trying to shove Hollow’s mask away from him. 

“No, I will not call off my sibling.” Hornet said firmly, leaning the broom against the wall to step closer. "They're going to apologise and you're going to be a good sport and accept it."

"But they tried to kill me-" Tiso began to whine before Hornet jabbed a finger in his face.

"I'm certain half of this cursed kingdom has tried to kill you! Now be nice!"

Hollow, sensing a moment of opportunity, nuzzled the nose of their mask against the side of Tiso's face. He grumbled for a moment, then loudly sighed. "Yes, I forgive you."

The large vessel nodded, picking Tiso up and setting him on the couch before heading to the kitchen. Finally -  _ finally! _ \- they could return to their cooking. 

“Was that so hard?” Hornet asked, sounding a bit smug.

“YES.” He hissed.

Rolling her eyes, she was about to reply, but someone began knocking on the door. “Stay here, don’t do anything stupid.”

Tiso grumbled as he moved the pillows around to get comfortable. “ _ Oh Tiso, don’t do anything stupid!” _ he said in a mocking tone. “Feh, whatever. You still owe me that kiss.”

Quirrel popped his head from his nest. “Hornet is a  _ bean.”  _ he slurred.

A little surprised, Tiso jumped. Then frowned. “What? A bean?”

“She’s a less bean.” Quirrel insisted.

“A what now?”

“Less bee ant!”

“Pardon?”

Quirrel was growing more and more agitated. “No! She’s less been! Lees Bees!”

On the other side of the conversation, Tiso had to stop himself from laughing. “No no, keep going! I’m sure you’ll get it!”

“GIRLS.” Quirrel shouted. “HORNET LIKES GIRLS.

Finally the pieces clicked. Tiso snapped his fingers. “OH! A lesbian! You’re saying Hornet-” The gears whirled in his head as he thought about what the archivist said. “-that..Hornet….. _ Oh Gods, I’ve been flirting with a lesbian.” _

* * *

Hornet opened the door slowly, peering outside through the crack. 

She didn’t need any more visitors. She was  _ done  _ with visitors; Unless it was someone she really wanted to see, she would turn them away, politely or not. 

"Miss Hornet?" 

_ Ogrim. _

"Ogrim! Thank  _ goodness _ ." Hornet flung the door open the rest of the way. "I'm so glad to see yoooooo-  _ What are you holding?" _

"These?" Ogrim asked, glancing at the hulking creatures slung over his shoulders, "Why, they're the aphids you asked for!"

"I-" Hornet stuttered, "I asked you to bring the syrup, not the animals." 

"... Ah." He said, "Well, don't worry, I also grabbed as many jars as I could! I'll just, ah… Put these back."

"No, no, don't worry, we can find a use for them; Why don't you just… Put them in the garden, for now." Livestock would be good, surely. She could sell what they produced, perhaps get meat and eggs as well, she’d already been considering it. 

She just hadn’t expected it so...  _ Soon _ . 

"Right you are. Apologies, Princess." 

“It’s fine.” Hornet said, “I should have been more specific.”

Ogrim stepped away from the door, shuffling around the house to their bare and weedy garden. The gate creaked, there were two thuds, and the old knight returned; Still walking a little awkwardly. 

She would have to remember to put water out for the animals later. 

… And, if they turned out to be useful, ask Ogrim to bring more. 

“Come, Hollow’s been getting a little impatient.” Maybe if they moved through the house quickly enough, Ogrim wouldn’t notice the mess. 

Hornet especially hoped he wouldn’t notice the burnt mess in the living room, one that would have been much easier to hide if the door hadn’t been both smashed  _ and  _ burnt at some point during the day’s events. 

“Princess? What happened while I was out?” 

“... Nothing important.”

“I see.” 

In the kitchen, Hollow was… Well, still  _ cooking _ , but with a mite less enthusiasm. 

Hornet wasn’t sure if they were still moping or running out of ingredients, but either way, she figured the syrup should cheer them back up.

“Hollow, Ogrim’s back, and he brings your missing ingredient.” 

Hollow turned, straightening up, not snapping into a salute and certainly more comfortable than before, but still carrying a stiffness. 

“Ah yes,” Ogrim said, “Let me just…” 

Without another word, he began to take off his armor. 

“What the-  _ It comes off _ ?” Hornet yelped, “I thought that was part of your- What are you doing?”

“My hands were full! How else was I  _ supposed  _ to-  _ Ah _ , there we go.” His breastplate popped off over his head, and from underneath, hundreds of little jars of syrup split out across the floor. “I hope that’s enough for you, dear Knight. It was quite a squeeze.” 

Hollow went to pick them up, then hesitated, looking at Hornet and Ogrim. “Yes, take some.” She assured them. “You need the syrup, don’t you? Don’t be shy.”

Hollow stopped slowly, scooping just one jar off the floor. 

They straightened, popped the lid with a well-practiced movement, and proceeded to tip their head back and swiftly chug the contents. 

"Hollow!" Hornet yelped, "You'll rot your mask!" 

They ignored her, pouring every drop of nectar into their mask and then some, shaking the jar until no more came out.

Seemingly satisfied with the quality; They slammed the jar down, nodded once, stiffly, at Ogrim; And busied themselves gathering the rest of the things up. 

"Does this mean you like it?" Ogrim ventured, "It was rather difficult to gauge the, ah,  _ freshness _ ." He coughed, "I find most bugs find my opinions on such matters… Distasteful." 

Hollow paused in their gathering, raising their head to look Ogrim in the eyes for, perhaps, the first time. 

Their nod came a little easier, this time, less tense, and they slowly extended their arm to offer a jar to him, which the old knight took gratefully with gentle hands. 

"Why, thank you." He smiled. "You know, I don't believe I've ever tried this before. Perhaps I'll have it with my dinner?"

"Before you do that," Hornet cut in, "I'm sure Hollow would like to be left to their work, and I need a hand sorting out the mess out there. Please don't ask." 

"Oh, I can't guarantee that!" 

Hornet bit back a frustrated sigh as the two headed to the living room.

"Stars Above! This room looks like it caught on fire!" Ogrim exclaimed, stepping over some of the charred floor.

Ogrim noticed Tiso and stared at him.

Tiso stared back. 

"Excuse me sir, do you realize you are a bright orange?" Ogrim asked slowly.

Tiso scoffed. "No, Colonel Obvious, I'm colorblind.  _ YES I NOTICED."  _

Hornet interrupted. "Ogrim, this is Tiso. Tiso, Ogrim. Tiso, be  _ nice _ ."

To her surprise, Tiso shifted away, head held low. "Y-Yes ma'am."

Good. Finally. He  _ wasn't _ acting as a fool for once.

"... Are you orange for any particular  _ reason _ , Tiso? Say… A  _ sickness _ ..?" 

Hornet groaned, of  _ course _ Ogrim would come to a similar conclusion to her siblings; But at least he was being more delicate about it. 

"No. The infection's over." Hornet said quickly. "He ate enough Ooma cores to kill a small animal and now he's paying the price." 

"Do you have to tell  _ everyone _ that asks?" Tiso hissed. 

"Yes."

"Oho, I see!" Ogrim chuckled, "If that's the case, then I suppose it's true what they say, you  _ are _ what you eat!" He broke into loud, belly-slapping laughter at his own joke, causing Tiso to groan and practically  _ drop _ his head into his hands, mumbling something that sounded, if not rude,  _ exceedingly _ unhappy.

_ "Uuuuugh,  _ why are your friends all so laaaame?" 

_ "Tiso." _

"Sorry, sorry." He muttered. 

"Lame? Hah! Young bug, you haven't heard  _ anything _ yet." 

"Is that a threat?" Tiso asked. 

"Yes." Ogrim said smugly, before turning to Hornet. "Now, what exactly do you need me to do?" He asked, clapping his hands together. "I see our brave Knight is already hard at work! They've always been a helpful little scamp." 

Ghost was positively beaming as they swept up the remaining ash. The Grimmchild was - thankfully - upstairs for their nap and out of the way. In addition, Hornet wouldn't know how to answer if Ogrim asked about the child. Best to keep the child out of sight for now.

“We need to shift the remains of this furniture outside.” Hornet said, pointing at the chunked-up remains of their coffee table and the ruined sofa. “Perhaps we can burn them later.” 

A bonfire would be a good way to occupy the Child, and it would ensure their garden didn’t get choked with junk. 

“Understood!” Ogrim bundled every splinter of the broken furniture under his arms. "I can take this out myself. No need to lift a finger, dear Princess." 

"Are you sure?" Hornet ventured. "I could at least… Get the doors for you?" 

"We never closed them! I'll be right back." 

She glanced over at Tiso. “Do you plan on helping?”

“I don’t feel well.” He replied, curling up on the couch and putting a pillow over his head. “If I move too much I’m gonna hurl.”

Hornet sighed. “It’s your own fault you know. Fine, stay out of the way then.”

" _ Wait _ ! Wait." Tiso gestured wildly as Hornet turned to leave the room. "The big guy said he can handle it himself. Can I,  _ uh… _ " He wiggled awkwardly, "Talk to you for a sec..?" 

Hornet crossed her arms with an annoyed huff. "Make it quick. Some of us are still capable enough to work."

"Well, you see, I… I wanted to say, uh…" Tiso floundered, "The thing is… I heard..." 

"I don't have time for this, Fool."

"You, uh, you're a…  _ Bean… _ "

“Are you insulting me?”

“No! No I swear!” Tiso continued to stumble over his words. “Q-Quirrel didn’t explain it very well!”

“Why are you listening to him-”

_ “QUIRREL TOLD ME YOU LIKE GIRLS AND I FEEL LIKE SHIT BECAUSE I’VE BEEN FLIRTING WITH YOU BECAUSE I THOUGHT YOU WERE PLAYING HARD TO GET PLEASE DON’T HATE MEEEE” _

Hornet didn’t respond immediately. “...ah. No offense, Tiso, I appreciate the gesture, but you needed Quirrel to tell you that?”

Tiso hung his head, squirming uncomfortably on the couch. “I-I’m sorry, Hornet. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“No, I believe you were thinking  _ very straight.”  _ She sighed. “...but I forgive you. Thank you for apologizing.”

* * *

Hollow carefully, delicately, flipped the flat disk of batter, making sure that each side was cooked. Both sides were a wonderful golden and quickly added to a pile of similar disks.

Yes, the cookbook said pancakes were a breakfast, but who’s to say they couldn’t have breakfast for dinner?

Pancakes looked good and used minimal ingredients. And they smelled  _ amazing -  _ even with the Ooma cores mixed in for the body.

All they needed was a drizzling of the Aphid Syrup. The quality was good, and they couldn't believe they managed to get away with drinking the whole bottle like that. Hornet wouldn't never let them do  _ that  _ again, that was certain.

So they arranged a stack of pancakes neatly on the plate, drizzling the syrup on top. It was almost too good-looking to eat.

Almost. They worked hard on these, gosh darn it! And Hollow and the rest of their family were going to enjoy them!

Hollow looked at all the leftover batter they had made. They were going to make  _ so  _ many pancakes...


	20. THE PANCAKENING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mons: Just wait until hollow tries to make waffles  
> Pinky: *Wipes eyes* Oh, Hollow... Team Cherry may not have given them the ending they deserved, but I am soft and I will do it for them

The sun had set, leaving the town of Dirtmouth nearly drenched in darkness - If not for the crystal lanterns that the Grimm Troupe and Myla had set up. But with the sun dipping out of sight, the temperature dropped drastically. “It’s too cold. I’m not standing out here to set up a bonfire.” Hornet decided.

Ghost seemed disappointed that they were  _ not  _ going to start a massive fire. “Don’t worry, perhaps we can start one tomorrow.” She assured them. Turning to Ogrim, she said, “Thank you for assisting us.”

“You’re welcome, dear Princess!” He boomed heartily; “I’m just glad to finally be of use once more, there have been few chances to help others, as of late.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “... My choice of abode probably didn’t help.”

Hornet changed subjects. “I believe Hollow is almost done with cooking dinner. Do you plan on staying, Ogrim?”

"Well…" He said, "Would you be willing to have me a little longer? I would love to try our dear knight's cooking."

"Oh, I'm sure they would love for you to try some." Hornet guessed, "We're happy to have you. It's far too cold to be walking home, anyway."

_ That also meant Tiso and Lemm were stuck inside, but oh well, too late to take it back.  _

She could handle them for a few more hours. 

It would be a pain to set out enough bedding for their guests, but if she skimped out on providing for certain  _ uninvited _ bugs, no one would know.

"Let's head back in." She said, turning back towards the house. "I'm freezing my horns off." 

* * *

Hollow had stacks of pancakes. 

Piles of pancakes. 

A veritable treasure trove of pancakes! So many, they were beginning to run out of plates to pile them upon. 

And they had hardly chipped into their batter stockpile. Hopefully, it would keep; They weren't keen to find out what would happen if it went rancid while it was still,  _ well… _

They tipped another perfectly cooked pancake onto the closest pile, all buttery and sweet and soft, all perfectly brown and deliciously thick and  _ perfect _ .

They were so excited to feed them to their family! 

Without further ado, Hollow plunged the still-hot pan under their cloak, sinking it into the shadows and refilling it from their stockpile. 

Ghost kept boring things like Geo, twigs and toys under there, but Hollow at least understood the full  _ culinary potential _ of being able to carry things about that way, and milked it, metaphorically, for all it was worth. 

They flipped the pancake, savouring the simplicity of their work. 

They would need to add more butter to the pan again, soon, and could take a quick break while it melted. 

_ Then, they could-  _

"How many of those, exactly, are you planning to make?" 

Hollow jerked in fright, dropping the pan as they were knocked out of their pancake daydream.

That… Had come from the table. The table was talking to them. 

… Maybe the spare batter was going bad already. 

"Well? Are you going to pick that up, or are you going to let it burn the tile?" 

_ Wait a second. _

Hollow stooped, carefully picking up the dropped pan as they peered between the seats. 

A pair of eyes and a beard glowered back.

_ The Grumpy Tea Bug. _

They distinctly remembered throwing him out, for grumpy tea reasons. 

The Grumpy Tea Bug huffed. “I scrambled down here during your  _ fit _ earlier. However, my beard got… Stuck. On a nail, or a loose floorboard, or something.”

Hollow winced at the mention of their 'fit'.

"Well?" The Grumpy Tea Bug snapped. "Are you gonna stand around and do nothing? No need to help me! It's  _ wonderful _ down here!"

Hollow blinked. They supposed, if he  _ wanted _ to stay down there… 

… Well, he seemed fine. Hollow stood and returned to their cooking.

The Grumpy Bug spluttered something angry as they quickly cleaned out and refilled the dropped pan. 

"Oh, I see how it is!" 

Did he? They didn't. 

He insisted he was fine, and got angrier? Perhaps he was just naturally inclined to be angry, as they were naturally calm, Ghost was naturally…  _ Ghost _ , and Hornet was always _ oh so serious _ .

"You could at  _ least _ give me a pancake." The Tea Bug grumbled. 

Hollow hesitated. That seemed… Fair, they supposed. 

They  _ were _ excited to share. 

Hollow grabbed the closest pancake from its plate, still warm, and posted it under the table.

"Hm. It's...  _ Good _ . Give me another."

_ No! _ If they kept handing over pancakes, they'd all be gone! Hollow shook their head, and the Grumpy Tea Bug sputtered, “How selfish! Respect your elders!”

Well...Hollow  _ was _ older than them, so they were respecting their elders, in a way. Hollow took a smaller pancake, and nibbled on it themselves.

“This entire  _ house _ is against me…” They heard the bug grumble from under the table.

Now,  _ that _ wasn't fair. 

The door opened soon after, the others talking amongst themselves. 

_ Showtime.  _

Hollow gathered the best looking pancakes, arranging them on the ‘good’ plates. They popped open a bottle of syrup, pouring it over the pancakes. Perfect, perfect,  _ perfect.  _

As Hornet passed by the kitchen, Hollow grabbed her arm and gently pulled her in. “Hollow, what is it? What’s wrong?” 

Hollow presented the plate of pancakes.

"How lovely! Is this what you've been working on?" She asked, with such an impressed tone of voice they couldn't help but puff up with pride. "... What are they?"

Grabbing the cookbook, they showed her the page for ‘Fluffy, Buttery Pancakes’. Of course, they didn’t have much butter, but oh well.

“They’re rather… Orange.” Hornet noted, tilting her head. “Did you use the cores?”

A nod. Hornet paused, then had an idea. “You’ve made enough for everyone, correct?”

Hollow nodded enthusiastically, gesturing emphatically towards the hole in the wall that led to the dining room, with it’s large table and many chairs. 

“Ah, I see.” Hornet nodded. “Very well, then! Set up the dining table, Hollow, and I’ll gather everybody.  _ It’s time for a meal _ .” 

* * *

The table had been set. 

They didn’t have much in the way of cutlery, nor plates, nor glasses, nor mugs, nor- Well, anything, really, but Hollow had more than made do. 

“Hello?! Are you seriously going to  _ ignore the bug under your table?!” _

He had literally told them to earlier? So… Yes. Yes they were. 

Hollow nodded, prompting a string of furious curses from under the table. 

Well! They  _ definitely  _ weren't going to help him up now. 

Hornet re-entered the kitchen. "Quirrel will not be joining us, I hope you can understand." She tapped the side of her mask in thought. "Lemm is here… Ghost and Ogrim are in the living room… I'm unsure if Tiso is well enough to join us."

Hollow wilted a little at that.

"No, no, don't be sad, I can ask him!" Hornet said quickly, "You keep preparing, let me know when we're all set and I'll call everyone in."

Hornet turned to leave, only to pause as the Grumpy Tea Bug, now revealed to be Lemm, spoke up again. 

"If you want me to be in any position to eat,  _ stop rushing around and help me out!" _

"... Fine. Sure. If it stops your complaining." Hornet sighed, kneeling down to shimmy under the table. 

_ "Thank _ you!" 

"But you have to help Hollow set up." 

She ignored Lemm’s grumblings as she unhooked his beard from a crack in the floor and helped him up.

Lemm, true to his word, began to help set the table once he was on his own two feet again. Hollow was appreciative.

Hornet, meanwhile, grabbed a plate and headed to the living room. “Tiso, are you still here?”

Tiso grumbled something unintelligible as Ghost climbed all over him. He was surprisingly passive about the whole ordeal, not making a move to stop the little vessel from their play. 

"We'll be having dinner soon," Hornet said, perching on the armrest of the sofa. "I know you're not well, but would you join us at the table?"

"I'll do more than that." Tiso hauled himself into his elbows, watching as Ghost tumbled from his chest. "Load me up a plate!" 

“Hm. I thought you were  _ ill.”  _

He made a non-committal noise as he stretched. "Not sick enough to deny a free meal. What's cooking? Smells good."

Hornet gave a smug look. "Pancakes."

"No way?! You're kidding. I can't remember the last time I had those, if ever. What are pancakes?"

"Well the main ingredient in these pancakes are Uoma cores."

Tiso made a face, sitting back down on the floor. "Hm. Weird, suddenly not feeling hungry anymore. Strangest thing. Best eat my share."

"I thought you were fine?" Hornet continued to tease. "Don't you want some  _ Uoma core Pancakes?" _

"No. And if you keep saying that word, I'm going to be sick."

"What word? Core? Uoma-"

Tiso hissed, pulling the hood over his head. "I'm going to be sick  _ on you _ if you don't stop."

"OK, alright, I'll stop mentioning the Uoma core Pancakes."

_ "SICK ON YOU." _

"If you change your mind, they'll be in the kitchen."

**_"SICK."_ **

Hornet snorted, turning to leave, "Right, right. You don't have the guts." 

* * *

Ghost excitedly slapped their paws against the table. They wanted pancakes and they wanted it  _ now! _

But Hollow insisted on them waiting for Hornet to return. 

"You're quite the chef, hm?" Ogrim asked Hollow. "I never would have imagined! This has truly been a very strange but eye-opening day…"

Lemm did  _ not _ listen.

"They look dry. I'd like a drink, such as, oh I don't know,  _ my tea!" _

Hollow walked over and slammed a jug in front of him, sloshing something watery and amber-brown over the tablecloth. 

"... And what is this?" Lemm asked. 

"Oh! Not only do they cook, they make drinks, too!" Ogrim said, "What wonderful skills you've cultivated." 

Hollow almost looked him in the eye as they circled back to set glasses upon the table. 

"Don't go slathering them in praises just yet. The proof of the drink is in the… Erm, drinking." Lemm poured himself a tall glass of the liquid, lifting the glass to examine it and taking a few cautious sniffs. "Hm." He took a small sip, and coughed. " _ This is just syrup _ ." 

Offended, Hollow shook their head, shaking the jug pointedly as the drink sloshed about in a very un-syrupy way. 

_ "... Watery syrup."  _

"Well, everyone starts somewhere." Ogrim ventured, pouring his own glass.

Hornet returned with little ceremony, slipping into a seat at the head of the table. "Tiso won't be joining us after all." 

Hollow seemed a little put out by this, but dutifully began to pass out precariously stacked plates of syrup-coated pancakes. They carefully set them in front of all the diners, in front of their own seat, and then they took an extra plate and swiftly left the room. 

"Hollow!" Hornet called, "I just told you, Tiso isn't eating!" 

* * *

"Uuuugh, what are you doing with those? I can't even look at them…" 

Hollow ignored Tiso's complaints, moving past him as if he were not there and crouched in front of the nest still stuffed behind the sofa, peering at it quizzically. 

Quirrel wasn't coming because he was sleeping… But he would have to wake up again sometime soon, wouldn't he? Then he could eat! 

Hollow would simply leave some out for him, but where to put them? They didn't want him missing them. 

They could just put the plate down in front of it, but… No, that wouldn't do. 

_ Hm… _

Hollow stood, balancing the plate against the crook of their arm and leaning to peel away the top layer of fabrics and pillows to reveal the sleeping bug within.

_ Yes, perfect! _

With a swift twist of their arm, they tipped the entire plate, syrup and all, into the nest; Carefully laying the blankets where they found them. 

Job done, they trotted back to the dining room to join their family for dinner. 

_ Oh…! _ They had never done that before! How exciting!

* * *

Ghost couldn’t wait anymore. Hollow was taking too long and Ghost wanted pancakes  _ now _ . They stuck their fork dead-center into one of the fluffy concoctions and proceeded to shove the entire thing in their eyehole. Half of it still dangling out, dripping syrup all over the table.

Hornet groaned. “We’ve talked about this.  _ Sensible _ bites.”

Lemm shuddered and Ogrim held back a laugh. “Pure Vessel- er,  _ Hollow  _ never did that at the Palace.” His laughter died down. “...Don’t recall them eating much at all… Oh.”

She quickly patted Ogrim’s arm. “It’s alright, you didn’t know.”

Hollow returned just as Ghost finished shoving the rest of the pancake into their mask. The small vessel began excitedly slapping the table, showing how much they liked the breakfast dish.

They had syrup and butter oozing all down their mask. 

“Wipe your face, Ghost.” Hornet said, at about the same time Lemm asked;

“What did I just witness?”

“Have you never eaten before, Relic Seeker?” Hornet shot back, handing Ghost a scrap of cloth to de-goo their face. “Hollow, I hope you don’t mind Ghost starting without you, they were…  _ Enthusiastic  _ to get started.”

They shrugged to indicate their lack of care, and folded into their own place at the table. 

With the chef finally joining them, the rest tucked into their breakfast-dinner.

* * *

The pancakes went down a  _ treat _ . 

It was no surprise when Ghost requested seconds and thirds, something that made Hollow glow with pride by itself, but when the rest of the table followed their lead, holding empty plates high like a prayer for sweet batter, did they feel like all that work  _ meant _ something.

They all loved it. They all loved the food! And Hollow couldn't be happier if they  _ tried. _

Hours of stirring and sifting and recipe reading, finally coming to fruition. 

Hornet stared at them over her fifth helping with concern. "Hollow, are you crying?" 

_ Maybe. _

_ Yes. _

Ghost stood, immediately going over to comfort their larger sibling. Hornet stuttered, “T-There’s no reason to cry, Hollow. I promise we like your pancakes-”

“Hornet, I don’t believe they’re sad.” Ogrim said quietly, resting a hand on Hollow’s shoulder. 

"A-Ah. Hollow, these are amazing. You did a wonderful job, I'm very proud of you."

Hollow started to sob harder. She was  _ proud _ of them! Ogrim and Ghost were proud of them too! Lemm was, well Lemm was there.

Hollow grabbed a handful of tablecloth to dab at their face, smearing fat black stains across the aged white fabric. 

"There, there. Dry your eyes." Ogrim patted their shoulder, taking his own fistful of cloth to gently wipe off their other cheek. "This is the best meal I've been invited to for a very long time indeed, of course we're all proud!" 

Ghost threw themselves into Hollow's lap, wrapping their little arms around their chest, barely making it halfway around.

"The little one has the right idea!” said Ogrim, joining Ghost in giving Hollow a near  _ shell-shattering _ hug.

Making pancakes, Hollow decided, was  _ definitely _ worth the time and effort, and they were already thinking of what recipe to make next.


	21. Sneaky Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mons: This wasn't supposed to be this long but we just love writing this fic  
> Pinky: I regret to say it is time to feed Lemm dirt

“Alright.” Hornet said, belly stuffed fit to bursting; So heavy and warm and comfortable she felt fit to doze off there and then. “I think... Perhaps it’s time for everyone to head to bed.” 

The chorus of tired mumbles from the rest of the table confirmed they felt the same way, and even Hollow and Ghost were fighting to stay upright, lounging drowsily in their chairs like a pair of little emperors. 

She slid from her seat, wincing as her overfilled belly protested. “I’ll grab bedclothes for you two. We should have enough chairs to accommodate and I’m sure Tiso will sacrifice some blankets if he must.”

“Don’t worry, dear Princess;” Ogrim piped up. “I can sleep perfectly well on the floor! I doubt I’ll even need a blanket.”

“No, absolutely not. So help me, you _will_ sleep comfortably.” 

“As you wish,” He chuckled, standing to follow. “At least let me help you.”

“I’ll stay here.” Lemm groaned. “To… _Ah…_ Keep an eye on things.” He gestured vaguely towards Ghost and Hollow. “They’re troublemakers.”

“Fine.” Hornet said, too tired to argue. “Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll deal with them in the morning.”

“That’s fine by me.” Lemm murmured. 

“I think it’s only fair if myself and our young knight here help too!” Ogrim chimed in, ignoring Ghost as they waved an unhappy fist at the idea of yet more chores. “The noble chef, of course, is encouraged to sleep in.” 

Hollow flashed Ogrim a brief thumbs up from where their mask had almost fused to the tabletop in exhaustion. 

The old knight gasped, lightly grabbing Hornet’s forearm as they left the room. “Did you see that? Princess, how wonderful! I think they’re warming up to me!” 

“They never disliked you.” Hornet said, patting his arm as she led the way to their cupboards. “They were merely... Surprised. I don’t think they knew quite how to act.” 

“I understand that, but a situation like theirs… It could easily have led to resentment. I’m glad it didn’t.”

“Ogrim, if anyone resents you _,_ then _they’re_ the one with problems.” Hornet replied, handing him a folded pile of bedsheets.

"Potentially. But still, I'm glad." 

Ogrim was a bit too large to use the couch to sleep on, he would have to sleep on the floor, unfortunately. After hearing how Ogrim lived in the Royal Waterways, Hornet wished to make him as comfortable as possible. Lemm and Tiso could argue over the couch, she didn’t really care.

As Hornet came into the living room to set up Ogrim’s bed, Tiso poked his head out from behind the couch. “Ah, are you gonna kick me out now?” He asked, trying not to sound hesitant.

“No, why would I?”

Tiso blinked, surprised. “I, uh, sort of expected you to do so.”

Hornet tossed a pillow at his head. “You’re my guest. And as my guest, I’m asking you to stay.”

Tiso yelped, failing to duck the pillow and disappearing dramatically behind the sofa once more with a muffled _thump_ . “ _Thank you_ …”

“Mm. I suggest you claim a place to sleep before Lemm gets here; And try not to squish the nest on your way out.” 

As Tiso began to laboriously haul himself from his hiding place, Hornet tossed about for a moment before making a beeline for the most comfortable corner of the room, Ogrim close behind. “I imagine you’ll want a wall at your back.” She said, beginning to layer plush blankets on the floor. “And the cold’s already crept in here... The rest of the house will be no better, I’ll have Ghost light the fireplaces.” 

“Thank you, Princess. I appreciate this.” 

“It’s the _least_ I can do.” Some movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention and she turned to see Ghost edging into the room. “Ah. We were just speaking about you. I need you to grab your charge and light some fires.”

They seemed a little too excited to be receiving such instructions, so Hornet quickly clarified; _“In the fireplaces._ Here with our guests and in the bedrooms, please.”

As they sagged, a little crestfallen, Hornet sighed. “And you can light the bonfire tomorrow.” 

_That_ put a spring in their step as they thundered upstairs to grab the snoozing Grimmchild. 

_… The snoozing Grimmchild that she would have to explain to Ogrim._

He was already positioning pillows, and Ghost’s footsteps were rapidly returning. 

“... By the way, Ghost is babysitting the child of a fire demigod and we are about to use them as a living fire-lighter.” Hornet ploughed through the sentence as fast as she could. “... Just so you’re aware.” 

“... I see.” Ogrim said. “Why?”

“As far as I understand, they did a sizable favour for him once and now he won’t leave.” She left out all the ominous mentions of a ‘ritual’.

“Hah! It seems they have done us _all_ rather sizable favours, doesn’t it?”

“ _For once_.” She hissed under her breath.

Ghost burst back into the room, brandishing the still-sleeping Grimmchild over their horns like a weapon. 

"Wake them up before you fling them into the coals, please." Ghost lifted the young godling higher. _"Gently."_

Ghost hesitated, and then laid them carefully down. Grimmchild stretched and chirped, rolling into a more comfortable position on the singed carpet; Ogrim leaning in for a closer look. “Ah, they’re always sweet at this age.”

Hornet snorted. “They can fly and breathe fire.”

“And you could spin webs and set traps! Young things always test their boundaries, it’s merely part of growing up.”

Ghost poked the Grimmchild, causing them to stir.

They poked again, and this time the Child swatted at their hand with a muffled yowl of complaint. 

With the third poke, they finally awoke, spluttering a few angry sparks as they slithered almost upright. 

According to Grimm, they would start to bud out little legs soon; But it would be a while yet until they could truly stand. 

Ghost tapped the Child’s shoulder and pointed at the empty fireplace. 

“Hold on,” Hornet said, “We need a build the fire first-”

Grimmchild obediently _spat,_ and the empty fireplace burst into warm scarlet flame. 

“... That works too.” Right. Not once had the Troupe been seen feeding the ever-present scarlet flames within their camp. Because, clearly, they were magical. 

Ghost began to trot towards the stairs, the Child taking flight to follow.

“Are you going to light the rest?” Hornet called after them, receiving a rapid nod from her sibling in return. “Good. And thank you, Grimmchild.”

The Child yowled in recognition, turning back briefly to wave a wing at her. 

As the young pair exited, the considerably _less_ young Lemm entered, squeezing past them with a characteristic grumble. "And where can I sleep?" 

"Either on the floor or a chair." Hornet said, "If you want the sofa, you'll have to fight Tiso for it." 

" _Fight_ him?" Lemm scoffed. "He looks like he'd snap in a stiff breeze, he can stay there."

_"Hey!"_ Tiso spluttered from where he lay. "That's not true!"

Lemm grabbed a pillow and flopped into the closest armchair. "I'll be fine right here, thank you. I’ve been sleeping at my desk recently, this won’t be too different.”

"And _why_ have you been sleeping at your desk?" Hornet asked pointedly.

"Because my bed is covered in-" Lemm stopped short. "- _Ah._ Nice try, but you don't need to know my reasons." 

"The first step to dealing with a problem is admitting you _have_ a problem, Relic Seeker."

"Says the bug that's apparently webbing up her food." 

"But did you see me doing it over dinner?" Hornet asked. "No, because I recognized the problem." 

Nearby, Tiso groaned from where he'd settled himself face-down on the sofa. "You _both_ have problems. Can't you argue somewhere _else?_ It's getting really late." 

Hornet, not wanting to argue further and feeling exhaustion seep through her shell, had to begrudgingly agree. Choosing to be the bigger bug, she nodded. “Tiso is right, let’s not continue the discussion this late at night, Relic Seeker.”

There came a thundering of steps down the stairs, and Ghost came bounding in, brandishing a white-wrapped orb. 

Oh. Right. She'd just sent them into her room, where the _evidence_ lay. 

Flanked by Grimmchild, they shoved it in her face. 

"... Ah, yes…" She said, "...Put that back, please." 

They waved it pointedly, almost asking, _'What is this?'_

Hornet paused. “That is a new project I am working on."

"You liar!" Lemm crowed, "That's one of those _cores-_ " 

Hornet shut him up with a pillow to the face. _"Give me the non-specific item, Ghost."_

Ghost stepped away and - at the same time - unraveled the silk to reveal the core. 

_Oh, for the love of-_

"-I'm working on a new way to store food." Hornet lied quickly, her dignity literally unraveling before her eyes. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't unwrap my experiments, _thank you._ "

She snatched the core away from them, the gelatinous glob almost bursting under her fingers. 

"Have you lit the fires?" They nodded, Grimmchild squarking along with them. "Good. Go to bed. I'll hold onto this." 

Grimmchild squealed. 

"What?" They slapped a wing against their stomach, flight faltering. "Are you hungry?" 

"Nyah!" 

Hornet assumed that was a yes. "Take this, then." She said, holding out the pilfered core. 

Grimmchild opened their mouth with an _"aaaa-"_ , and she posted it in, snorting as their cheeks bulged ridiculously in a very unbuglike way. "Off you go, now." That was certainly one way to dispose of the evidence.

The child, once finished chewing, continued to pitifully mewl and chirp. Hornet sighed. “Ghost, your ward is still hungry.” A bit gentler, she added, “Do you think they like pancakes?”

Barely a second later, Hollow's head popped around the door, another stack of pancakes already in hand. 

"They're too young to feed themselves. Ghost, that's- Oh." Grimmchild's face was already firmly buried within the pile. "That works too." It wasn't her job to clean them up afterward, so who cared how they ate their dinner? Maybe this would convince Grimm to stop surprising them with caring for the child.

“I’m sending you to bed after this, Ghost.” She continued. “It’s late.”

Ghost normally protested being sent to bed in such a manner. However, Ghost slowly nodded at her, darting into the kitchen before she could question them.

They were up to something, and Hornet was too tired to actively find out.

"Well. It's been fun. Goodnight, everyone." She turned on her heel and matched out before anything else could come up to distract her, stopped dead in the hallway, and poked her head back into the room. "Do you have enough bedding, Ogrim?" 

He shot her an affirmative gesture from underneath a pile of linen. "More than enough, dear Princess!" 

"I'm fine too, _thank you for asking._ " Lemm muttered. 

"Same here…" Tiso added with a murmur. "Wait... Can I have some water?" 

Hornet sighed. 

So much for no distractions. 

"Fine. One second." 

Hornet stepped into the kitchen. 

Hollow and Ghost were in there with the Grimmchild, as expected. Hollow was feeding the Child pancakes with seemingly single-minded devotion, their fingers dangerously close to the godspawn’s teeth.

Ghost, however…

They jumped as she stepped in, suddenly darting to the kettle like a bug possessed and dashing to fill it up with a suspiciously innocent air. 

"A bedtime cup of tea, hm?" 

They nodded rapidly, rushing to grab a set of three mugs, shoving the third in her face like an offering. 

Well, if they were _offering…_ "Yes, please. Chamomile, if you would." Hornet dug through their cupboards for a clean glass, finally finding a single dusty glass squirreled away behind some other glassware. 

They'd need to do the dishes first thing in the morning, otherwise, they'd have no clean kitchenware at all.

She rinsed it a little before filling it properly, the kettle beginning to boil on the stove. "I'll be right back." She said, feeling Ghost's gaze boring into her as she left the room. 

Hornet paused just outside the doorway. Leaning back, she poked her head into the kitchen. Ghost was just about to reach into their cloak for _something_ before turning back to the kettle. “A watched kettle never boils.” She told them.

Ghost nodded enthusiastically, staring intently until she left for good.

In the living room, Hornet handed Tiso his glass of water, still distracted by Ghost’s behavior in the kitchen. 

“Hey, uh, Hornet?” Tiso muttered. “You’re not letting go of the glass.”

She blinked, looking down at her hand still in a vice-like grip around the water glass. “Oh. That would make it difficult for you to drink, hm. Here.” She handed it over. "Put it somewhere visible when you're done. We can't afford any broken glasses." 

"Yeah, sure." He murmured, taking a slow sip. "... Thanks." 

"You're welcome. Goodnight, everyone."

* * *

With the Radiance defeated, the small handful of residents left in Dirtmouth were allowed to sleep and dream freely. 

_And sleep they did._

Hornet and Hollow were deep, deep sleepers, almost dead to the world. It almost seemed as if they were trying to catch up on the sleep they _lost_ during the infection. And their guests slept just as soundly.

But as everyone slept, Ghost was hard at work.

Ghost was hidden away in Quirrel's nest (although first, they had to clean out all the pancakes and syrup) working on a present for Hornet.

Their knitting and crafting skills had improved a lot as they worked on gifts for other bugs, and they were finally confident enough in their abilities to make some... _Larger_ edits to Hornet's cloak. 

All part of their plan, of course; They'd sat in on a couple of Hornet's projects before, they knew what to do. 

Ghost consulted the blueprint they'd created with their art supplies. It was crumpled, a little syrupy, and drawn with crayon, but good. 

They needed more cotton and other soft, fluffy materials. Surely one of the pillows from the couches would be a good sacrifice, but Ghost would pick one of the ugly pillows just in case.

Quietly, stealthily, Ghost crawled out of the nest. 

They had a particular pillow in mind, a ratty, floppy one; Which usually sat tucked in the corner of the sofa where it wouldn't get in the way.

They snuck carefully around, peering over the arm of the sofa. 

Well, the pillow was not hard to find.

Because Tiso was hugging it, snoring like a monster all the while. 

Ah. 

Ghost climbed up carefully by his side, experimentally tugging at the pillow to test the sleeping bug's grip. 

They couldn't just tug it out, he was holding on so tightly, they would surely wake him. 

Maybe if they swapped it with something… But what? They had nothing cuddly on hand! 

… Unless…? 

Well, _they_ were very cuddly!

Ghost sidled carefully closer, squeezing themself against Tiso's chest. 

Then, they began to wiggle into his arms; Carefully, slowly, pushing the pillow out of his grip and replacing it… With themself. 

The coverted sack of fluff and fabric hit the floor with a quiet thud, completely dislodged in favour of their own little body.

He'd barely even stirred!

They were a _genius_. 

They just had to squeeze back out again. 

Ghost wiggled hesitantly, still cautious of waking Tiso up. He stirred slightly, but was otherwise unphased. Tiso continued to clutch at his new Ghost-shaped pillow, and it would have been rather sweet honestly, but Ghost had things to do! They didn’t have time for a cuddle!

They should have swapped the pillow with Grimmchild instead.

No! Hornet’s gift was on the line! Ghost wiggled into this situation, and by all the Gods in the Pantheons, they were _going_ to wiggle out. 

Slowly, Ghost began to try and squirm away.

They managed to inch out, just a little, before Tiso mumbled in his sleep and _rolled,_ not only pulling them right back into his grasp, but wedging them almost entirely underneath his torso. 

Noo! _Noooo_ ! They were being squished! Crushed! They were going to become a _pancake_! 

Oh, what a cruel fate! They finally got the snuggles and cuddles they craved and it spelt their _doom!_

_Oh, would they ever see the sun again?_

Ghost flopped melodramatically, languishing in their fate, doomed to be hugged for all eternity. 

Normally, they wouldn’t mind such a fate; But they were _busy_.

Hornet’s gift wouldn’t make itself! 

Just as Ghost accepted their fate as a pillow, Tiso groaned. _“Why’s it get so cold?”_ He slurred, starting to sit up.

Ghost tried to wiggle away before he noticed the pillow swap as Tiso groggily shook his head. 

Finally, he noticed.

Sputtering, confused and embarrassed, he hissed, “GHOST?! Wh-?! Why?!” Tiso struggled to keep his voice low so as to not wake anyone. He leant in close, still furiously whispering, _“What in Deepnest do you think you were doing?!”_

Ghost stared up at him innocently.

_… They were having snuggie wuggies?_

_"Get off of me-"_ Tiso hissed, an ironic request; As he was lying almost entirely on top of Ghost.

He propped himself up on his elbows, giving them room to wiggle away. _"You're_ freezing- _I can't sleep with you_ wiggling- _Move!"_

Ghost popped out, rolling to the floor and sweeping up the pillow in one swift motion. 

_"Wait,"_ Tiso lurched upright behind them. _"Give that back-"_

_Uh oh._ Wasting no time, Ghost booked it back to the nest. 

Tiso certainly following... But he wasn't exactly _hot_ on their heels; More like… _T_ _epid_ on their heels, slow and stumbly and trying not to trip in the dark. “Why do you even _need it?!”_

Ghost dived into the safety of the nest, burrowing back into their private little pocket. 

He'd never find them there! 

Ghost didn’t hesitate in tearing open the pillow, spilling fluff across the blanket-covered ground. 

They pulled out a pilfered needle and thread.

Now, they just needed to begin their edits-

The nest shifted as Tiso reached inside to grab them. Ghost tried to squirm away, but bumped into Quirrel instead. Dead end. 

“Why is this so _sticky-_ ” he whined, grabbing one of Ghost’s horns and yanking them out. _“Gotcha.”_

_“What do you think you’re up to, you little thief?”_ He whispered, _“Give that pillow back! I was… Using it.”_

Ghost wiggled uselessly. They couldn’t give it back! It was already nothing but fluff!

“Fine. I’ll get it _myself.”_ Tiso hissed, using his free hand to rummage around. He froze, pulling out bits of stuffing and fluff and red string. “...what did...what?” 

Taking advantage of his distraction, Ghost pulled free of Tiso’s grip and dived back inside, emerging with their blueprints and shoving them in his face.

He already knew too much, after all. At least this way he’d understand what they were getting at.

“I don’t want your crayon scribble- _What have you done to my pillow?_ ”

Well technically it wasn’t _his_ pillow.

They smacked the sticky piece of paper a few times with their paw; A firm invitation to _look._

_“Fine, fine.”_ Tiso scanned the paper. "You woke me up and robbed me for some silly little _grubs project- Ow!"_ Ghost had smacked him. "Okay okay, I get it. You're making gifts. But you didn’t need pillows for the scarves, why now?”

Ghost stared at him, annoyed. He glanced back at the paper, the gears finally turning. “Oh! Ooooh, you’re not making scarves, this looks like something for Hornet- _oh.”_

"Oh, I see. And it's a surprise, huh?" Ghost nodded, pressing a finger to their mask in a _'sssh'_ gesture. "Alright. I'll keep your secret." Tiso stood on unsteady legs, making his way back to his makeshift bed. "But! You owe me a pillow."

It wasn't even his pillow.

"How heartwarming." Came Lemm's voice from across the room. "I hope you're willing to _buy_ my silence."

Oh, _great_. 

"I want my tea back." Lemm said. "I imagine you've drank most of it, so just grab me whatever's left, deal?" 

Ghost nodded.

_Deal_. 

"Well, off you go." 

Ghost scampered into the kitchen. 

They had to be quick! Their gift needed to be finished before the end of the night! 

They scaled the cupboards with ease, clambering all the way to the top to find the coverted tins. 

The… _Very light_ tins. 

_Oh, no._ Ghost cracked the nearest tin open to confirm their worries; _They were all nearly empty._

They couldn't deliver empty tins! Lemm wanted _tea!_

Unless…? 

… They made their own? 

Tea, as far as they could tell, was just a bunch of brown grainy stuff. 

And... There was a lot of that outside! What had Quirrel called it, when he taught them about plants? 'Dert'?

And if plants could _eat_ dert… _Then so could Lemm!_

Yes, yes! It would work! 

Ghost grabbed the emptiest tin and made a break for the garden, doing their best not to attract the attention of the big, weird animals Hornet had obtained at some point. 

They grabbed handful after handful of dert and stuffed it in until the tin was full, then pushed the lid back on and rushed back inside. 

Lemm eagerly snatched the offered tin, giving it a rattle. “Ah, yes. Spiced Chai, excellent choice.” He slid the tea into his beard. “Consider my silence bought, and _this-”_ he pulled out the long-lost wooden Tiktik. “Is yours, I believe?”

Yes! Yes it was! 

Ghost reached with grabby little hands, gladly taking the toy as it was passed over. 

"I found it stuffed under a cushion. Be a little more careful with your things, hm?" 

They’ll take great care in making sure _Lemm didn’t swipe it again._

They nodded at him and scuttled off before he managed to swipe their cloak or something. With their secret secure, Ghost returned to the nest to continue their work long into the night.


	22. Lemm Finally Eats Dirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pinky: Hornet is...GROMPY  
> Mons: look I couldn't not squeeze in a Pikmin reference, I'm only human

For the first time in their life, Hollow slept in. 

They were warm, and full, and ever so content; The gentle crackling of the scarlet flames within the little fireplace against their wall lending an air of comfort so _powerful_ , when it came time to rise, they just… Didn't. 

They awoke as they always did, of course, but instead of getting up and waking their sister, they simply rolled over, heavy and drowsy, and fell asleep once more. 

And without Hollow to wake her, _well_ , Hornet slept in too. 

A good thing for Ghost. 

For, as far as they were concerned, they didn't _need_ sleep, not when they had work to do. 

The painstaking work to modify Hornet's cloak had taken _all night_. They had no room for error and they knew it; Every stitch had to be thought out, plans had to be checked and rechecked, the pillow fluff had to be rendered usable.

But they had done it. 

And they had even found a little box to put it in! 

They even took the time to fold it neatly; As they did _not_ do with their own clothing. To finish it off, they tied a little bow around the whole affair, making sure it looked as nice as possible.

Ghost had never tied a bow before, they hoped she wouldn’t mind. 

They had to stash it somewhere. They couldn’t just hand her a present the moment she woke up; she’d be groggy and confused and wouldn’t fully appreciate the time and effort and love that went into it! Ghost, unfortunately, had to wait some more.

They could leave it with Quirrel in the nest, but it was still very sticky in there. 

Maybe if they were quick, they could dash up to their room and squirrel it away before she woke up? 

They carefully wiggled out of the nest, pulling the gift out behind them with the utmost care. 

With the whole ‘winter’ thing going on, the sun had been rising very late, to the point it was almost lunch before they got any worthwhile light at all. 

Yet, outside, they could already see colour creeping into the sky. 

They didn’t have long. 

As they tiptoed towards the door, they heard a groan, almost dropping the gift in surprise. 

“Ugh… Morning already?” Tiso! Why was he up? 

He caught sight of them and waved limply. “Hey, Ghost… What time is it? I never sleep well when I’m sick.”

They shrugged, scuttling for the door. They couldn’t tell the time! Time was meaningless!

“Wait... Waaait!” Ghost paused, watching as Tiso waved an empty glass at them. “Can you get me some water?” 

They stood, both staring and considering for a moment, before he followed it up with a small “Please?”

_Fine._

They left the gift by his side, giving Tiso a stern look as they did; _Do not open this, do not let Hornet see this,_ they hoped to say with their eyes. 

He _seemed_ to understand, as once he was given the box, Tiso placed it under a pile of blankets.

Right, good. 

Ghost grabbed his glass and scuttled off. 

They leapt into the sink, deftly avoiding the stacks of dirty plates and bowls leftover from the day before, and began to fill the glass. 

It was almost half full when the footsteps started. 

Footsteps… From upstairs.

_Footsteps too light to be Hollow's._

“Good morning, Tiso. Where has Ghost disappeared to?” Hornet’s voice echoed from the living room.

There was a long silence before Tiso answered. “Who?”

“Hilarious. Now, be serious, where is Ghost?”

“Who’s Ghost?”

"... Okay. I'm going to take your temperature. Shed the blankets." 

_No!_

Water in hand, Ghost dashed out of the kitchen. 

They had to be as fast as possible! 

They skidded back into the living room, threw the glass towards Tiso with a shattering _crash_ , grabbed the blankets with the hidden gift still tucked inside in their arms and dived bodily back into the nest; The whole maneuver going by so _fast,_ there was no chance Hornet realized it was them! 

"Did… Did you just…" Yes! Confusion! They had done it! 

Their hopes were shattered as Hornet got over her momentary shock and continued; _"Ghost…_ Did you just _smash a glass on Tiso's_ **_face_ ** _?"_

… They could salvage this. 

Their _accidental_ _distraction_ had succeeded!

Ghost hid the present within the pillow fort, then slowly, _slowly_ peeked their head out; Only to come face-to-face with a looming Hornet, who’d climbed over Tiso to reach the nest and instantly and unceremoniously hauled them out by the horns, holding them like a limp toy, legs dangling. 

“ _Why_ did you _do_ that-” She paused, blinking. _“-And why are you sticky?”_

Because they ate a nestful of syrup and pancakes? 

Well, technically not, they were still very full, so they just sort of took handfuls and… Stuffed it under their cloak.

They would need to remember to eject it or eat it for real before it went foul. 

“Well?” Hornet asked, giving them a small shake.

“I’m fine, by the way…” Tiso murmured from below. “You missed the _handsome_ bits…” 

He slithered out from under Hornet’s stalking form with a noise like wet, shifting glass. “Eugh… I hate wearing wet clothes.” 

“Shake yourself off.” Hornet said, clambering carefully down and dropping Ghost to the floor. “I’m assuming this was an accident; Ghost, because I cannot fathom why you would do that on purpose and I'm too tired to care. But don’t think you’re getting off lightly. You are cleaning this up _right_ now, and if I so happen to see, or, gods forbid, _step_ on a piece of glass, you are _never_ touching glassware again.” 

“I need to check on Hollow. They normally wake up by now, but they have yet to stir.” She turned to Tiso. “Can you keep an eye on Ghost while they clean?”

Wringing out the water from his hood, Tiso mumbled, “Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” Once Hornet was out of earshot, he leaned down to hiss, _“I’m happy to help with your little gift-giving, but don’t throw any more glass at me, got it?”_

They nodded rapidly and began to carefully pick up shards of glass. 

Thankfully, it had only broken into bigger pieces, so they didn't need to waste time with a dustpan. 

They needed to bin them, though… But they still needed to attend to their gift! 

Ghost opened their cloak.

… Maybe if they… Just put it all away for later, then… 

They carefully inserted a shard of glass. 

_Ow!_ Ow! Ow! _Ow!!!_ Nope. No. No sharp things. 

It clattered back to the ground and they stopped to scoop it up again, a little tender in the belly from their experiment. 

They would just carry them. 

"That was stupid." Tiso said. "What were you even trying to do there? Stab yourself?" 

Ghost stopped collecting glass for a second, reached once more under their cloak, and threw a pancake at him. 

Tiso hissed, but tore into the pancake as if half-starved, Ooma cores be damned. “So, when _are_ you going to give it to her?”

_Soon. Not yet_. The time had to be _perfect_. 

Sweeping up all the glass, Ghost tiptoed to the kitchen to toss the shattered pieces and to heat up leftover pancakes. They _were_ breakfast food, after all.

Ogrim was already in there, cleaning plates and humming merrily all the while.

When had he gotten up? How had they not noticed him the last time they were in there?

The old knight was capable of being perfectly quiet when he wanted to be, it seemed.

“Good morning, young knight! I’m getting a head-start on our cleanup duties; The sooner we start, the sooner we finish, after all.” 

Oh no, he was going to expect them to _help_.

"Since you're here-" _Noooo!!_ "-Would you please start scraping off last night's plates? I'm sure everyone will appreciate it if we get the table clear in time for breakfast." 

But they wanted _their_ breakfast… 

Ghost trudged to the table and began to clear up anyway. 

_Curse their helpful nature!_

One of Hornet's weird animals had come to the window to peer inside, and Ghost soon realized the big thing could be used to clean away the old food _for_ them, by simply offering soiled bowls and plates and letting the creature's tongue do all the work.

As it ate, they reached forwards cautiously and touched its big, smooth face; The snout under their fingers wet from drool. 

The creature's antennae caressed their arm, and it paused a moment in its feast to lay a great lick upon them, slurping from hand to shoulder. 

If they could giggle, they would. 

"Oho! Making friends, are we?" Ogrim called from the sink, chuckling as it began to lick their mask. 

They liked this thing, whatever it was. It needed a name, both of them did. 

Could they ask it what it wanted to be called? They weren't sure. They looked like a… _Bulborb_. Yes, that would be a good temporary name for it.

And the other one, the shy one that _wasn't_ trying to lick inside their eyeholes, that one could be…. 

Bulborb 2. 

Ghost should be in charge of naming _more_ things.

They squeezed their head past the creature's bulk to see if there were any more, perhaps a Bulborb 3 and 4, but spied only the two. 

That was fine. They squeezed back in and escaped from the licking in order to grab more plates for cleaning. 

Bulborb would earn its keep yet!

* * *

“Hollow, are you OK?” Hornet asked, knocking on their door. It felt strange, being the one to wake Hollow up. It reminded her of the early stages of their healing, right after Ghost defeated the infection and they crawled out of the temple, legs tangled up in chains. They didn’t move from their bed for weeks as she diligently cared for their wounds.

Was Hollow degrading in health? Were they sick?

From inside, there was… A sound. Hornet pressed her mask to the door, listening. 

She could barely hear it, muffled by the wood. It was… Some kind of buzz? Did they have bees in there? What was that? 

Hornet had learnt not to discount anything when it came to her siblings, especially as Ghost had a habit of kidnapping Hivelings for _cuddles_.

"Hollow?" They didn't lock their door, disliking the idea of being unable to come and go as they pleased, and Hornet carefully cracked it open. "What's- _Oh_."

_Snrrr…_

They were stone asleep… And _snoring_. 

_… Snrrr…_

It wasn't a normal snore, there was no voice to it, only vibration and a movement of air, but it was unmistakable nonetheless. 

Normally, Hollow slept so lightly, the door alone should have been enough to awaken them. 

Hornet closed it again as gently as she could manage, wincing at the light click of the latch. 

It was still early. Hollow had never slept this well before, and goodness knew they deserved it; She would come back later. 

With Hollow out of commission, it looked like she was in charge of breakfast now. _Oh, a warm bowl of Weaver Stew sounded absolutely divine right now,_ and Hornet would never pass up a chance to hunt. 

However, as she passed a window, she paused. Right, it was snowing heavily outside, it was freezing cold, and they were still in this cursed _Winter fiasco._

So, no hunting, then. Leftover pancakes for breakfast it was.

She could hear movement downstairs, the clinking of plates and the scraping of cutlery. 

If she was lucky, that was the sound of the kitchen being cleared. If she was unlucky, that was the sound of her young and naughty sibling eating regardless of the mess. 

She wasn't sure if what she found was much better, however. Ghost, Savior of Hallownest, was letting an aphid lick their dirty plates clean.

"Good morning, Princess!" Ogrim greeted. "The little Knight and I were just cleaning up! Where is our beloved chef?"

"Sleeping." She replied, harsher than intended, as she strode over to Ghost. "Care to explain?"

Ghost glanced down at the plate, and back up again.

Was it not obvious? They were cleaning. 

“That animal. Is licking our nice plates.” Hornet sighed, “Ghost, animals are dirty, please tell me you aren’t just putting those away.”

“Not in the slightest, Princess!” Ogrim called. “They’re simply feeding it our scraps, the plates are still getting a good scrub afterwards.” He pulled his hands from the sink, holding a sparklingly clean plate out to demonstrate. “See?”

“... Right, of course, thank you.” Scrubbed or not, Hornet cringed internally at the idea of eating off something that some lumbering, grass-eating creature had slobbered over, but she kept it to herself. “I appreciate you cleaning up.”

“Hollow is still resting, and I wish to keep it that way. I’ll take over in their stead for breakfast when you two are done cleaning.”

“Of course, Princess! We shouldn’t be too much longer.” Ogrim replied. “What do you have in mind?”

“I have many things in mind, truth be told.” Hornet said, still thinking about a warm bowl of Weaver Stew. “But, I have no plans on going into the cold this early. So for the time being, it looks like we’re having leftover pancakes.”

Ghost excitedly slapped their paws against the table. More pancakes!

"However…" Hornet cleared her throat awkwardly, "I'm not exactly sure how to reheat them. Perhaps we should start the oven?"

Ghost slapped the counter again, pointing outside, in the direction of their unlit bonfire. 

They could warm their food _and_ burn things! The perfect breakfast!

Hornet hummed. "Maybe. Although, that may burn them."

Ogrim winced. "...H-How about we just use a frying pan, Princess? The stove is perfectly functional."

"Ah, that would make more sense, yes." Ogrim was always rather sensible. 

Hornet pulled out a frying pan as Ghost piled up cold, slightly sticky pancakes on the table. Neither Hornet nor Ogrim asked where they had those tucked away. She got to work heating them up, making sure not to burn them (much) and that they were an even temperature. 

As they warmed, they began to smell absolutely _divine_. And, while Hornet would have preferred meat, her stomach grumbled regardless. 

Ogrim dug through their pantry, emerging with yet another armful of syrup. "I'll set the table. Be sure to warm up enough for everyone!" 

"Of course," Hornet muttered, wondering how little she could feed Lemm without being noticed. 

If he were hungry, perhaps he'd leave earlier? 

She had little time to wonder, as, as if summoned by her thoughts, the Relic Seeker walked in, sniffing the air. " _Mmmmm_. Reheated breakfast." 

"If you don't want it, don't eat it." Hornet snapped.

"Oh, no, I'll be eating it. I'd _hate_ to waste your hospitality." He pulled out a chair and sat, a strangely smug air about him. "Anyway, I wanted to speak to you." 

Behind him, Ghost jerked as they walked past, as if they had been shocked somehow; Fumbling a plate of pancakes, almost dropping them across the floor. 

They had frozen, staring up at Lemm. 

The Relic Seeker did not notice, forging on. "I've had enough of this and I want to go home," He said, "But this is not the weather to be wandering about alone; So, I have a deal for you. If you escort me back, I'll show you exactly _where_ I source my tea." 

_Hm_. The offer was tempting. 

As fun as the tea hunt had been, the fallout had not been worth it. 

Hornet flipped a pancake, idly thinking. While she didn't want to _'hang out'_ with Lemm in any way, shape, or form, it would be nice to secure a reliable supply. 

"Okay," She said, fixing herself a plate. "Deal." 

"Alright, let's go." Lemm said, sounding impatient. He had Ghost's scarf wrapped around his ruff of fur.

Hornet glanced at her plate. "What, _right now?"_

"The snow is only getting higher, and I suspect it will be quite cold today." Lemm said, snatching one of Ghost's pancakes and stuffing it between his jaws. "If the city streets become icy, we'll have no chance of traveling safely...Unless, of course, you want me to stay another day?"

_Absolutely not._

“Can I at _least_ have my breakfast?”

“Of course.” Lemm shrugged. “But the longer I stay here, the less willing I am to leave.” 

Hornet sighed, rubbing the bridge of her mask. “Alright, alright, fine. Ogrim, Ghost, I’ll return shortly, sans Lemm. Don’t let the house catch fire.”

“Good joke, Princess!” Ogrim chuckled.

She dryly chuckled in return. “I wasn’t joking.”

* * *

Unsurprisingly, it was _freezing_ outside. 

Hornet found herself shivering before they even reached the front gate. 

While it would be slightly warmer within Hallownest proper, Hornet still had to make it to the well without tipping off Lemm to her weakness. 

It was easy for him, he was covered in fur and had the added benefit of one of Ghost's knitted gifts; A benefit which, she noted slightly bitterly, had not been extended to her. 

Instead, Hornet had been spoilt by warm meals and a warm house, her cloak providing no benefit anymore, feeling as thin as silk against the wind. 

When she was young, her mother had often told her not to wear her warm clothing inside, as it would do her no good when she stepped out. 

As she dropped to the bottom of the well, the air stinging bitter against her eyes, she saw the truth in it. 

Snow was in there, too, finding its way in through small passageways and cracks in rock. It was warmer, too, comparable to Dirtmouth, but only barely.

"Have you thought about installing an elevator instead of a rusty chain?" Lemm asked as he crawled down to join her. "It'd be a lot faster. I can assure you, the city no doubt has excess elevators."

"I have more important things on my plate, Lemm." _Ugh._ Being in the cold made her want to crawl back into bed and never come out. _No. Stop thinking like that, don’t be Quirrel._ "Come, Relic Seeker, I wish to be home before I freeze."

"Of course." He said. "As do I. At least I have a ruff of fur. You’re shaking-”

_“I am aware.”_ Hornet hissed in reply, firmly marching ahead. Movement would warm her up. 

"I also have this scarf. It's odd, really." Lemm stroked the scarf awkwardly wrapped around his neck. "Everyone else seems to have some sort of Creation from the little thing… Except you. Did you not like yours?"

"Are you trying to make me abandon you, Relic Seeker?" Hornet huffed, stalking towards the lift down into the City and trying to ignore his words. 

She wasn't upset about it. She wasn't a grub. If Ghost judged her unworthy of a scarf that was fine. It was fine. She didn't _care-_ "It would be very easy." 

"Oh, I'm sure, but you'd lose out on my half of our deal; And I'd freeze." Lemm hummed thoughtfully, "If you were anyone else, I'm sure you wouldn't care, but your young sibling has a talent for scouring the kingdom. If anyone were to find my body, it'd be them… And _you'd_ have some explaining to do." 

The lift clattered as they stepped in, Hornet grabbing the lever in preparation, shuddering as the freezing metal bit sharply into her palm. "You'd be fine." 

"Maybe. But do you want to risk it?" He scoffed, mumbling under his breath, _“It’s a perfectly valid question to ask, you know. Even that punk had a scarf.”_

Hornet ignored him; Yanking at the lever bitterly. 

She couldn't control who Ghost took a shine to. They had many valid reasons not to include her. 

The mechanism had frozen in the cold, forcing her to brace herself against the ground and throw her weight against it until the doors begrudgingly closed behind them and the chains ground to life. 

Hornet supposed there was _some_ point to being dragged along. The Relic Seeker could hardly pull himself from under a table; Operating frozen machinery was right out. 

" _There_ we go." The old bug clapped his hands together, " _Thank you_. We couldn't get this thing to come down on the way up. That old knight dragged me all the way through that blasted mushroom wasteland, instead." 

“Did you drag me down here so you can avoid going the _long way?”_ Hornet hissed, trying not to let her shivering be too noticeable. 

Lemm blinked at her. “Yes.”

"This better be the best tea in Hallownest." 

"Oh, don't worry yourself. I'll show you the good stuff." Lemm said, peering between the bars into the lift shaft beyond.

Frost coated every surface, twinkling under the lumafly lighting in a manner that Hornet would've no doubt found beautiful if she could still feel her toes. 

Or her fingers. 

Or her face. 

"You'll find I always pay what I owe." He added, "Your sibling knows this quite well; In fact, I'd say I'm their main source of income!" 

"Where _do_ you get all your Geo?" Hornet asked, finally releasing the frozen lever as the lift slowly came to rest upon the ground with a frosty crunch. "The Kingdom's job market isn't exactly booming." 

"Inheritance, mostly." Lemm shrugged, "Some great grandparent of mine used to _be_ someone around here. I've no details, and so few records survive I've little chance to find out; But I'd say a little mystery is worth access to a fortune… _Especially_ when there's relics to buy."

“And what do you plan on doing with all these relics?”

“Clean them up. Study them. I don’t have to tell you my entire life story.” He replied, a little defensive. “What are you, a cop?”

"... Yes. Yes, that's entirely what I am, a _cop."_ Hornet said flatly, "No, of course not, I was just curious." 

"Right, right. Well, relic seeking is a competitive business! I can't just go handing out my secrets." 

"I suppose that's fair-" 

"Of course, I'd be happy to loosen my tongue if there were anyone around that could provide me with some first-hand knowledge… Say, someone who was _verifiably alive_ at the time, with an intact memory..." He paused, letting the sentence hang for a moment as they stepped into the City. "... But of course, that would be _impossible… "_

"...Yes," Hornet coughed, "Impossible."

* * *

_" Ta-da_. Tea shops."

Hornet stared at the mostly ransacked Tea Shop, its windows partially smashed. She gave Lemm a pointed look.

“The windows weren’t _my_ doing!” Lemm said, crossing his arms over his chest. “It was like that when I got here!”

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night.” Hornet muttered, stepping over the shards of glass to see the inside. There were plenty of tins still on the shelves, some flavors she’s never even seen before. 

“Help yourself, anyway.” He muttered, stepping carefully after her. “I couldn’t drink all this if I tried.”

Glancing up at some of the higher shelves, Hornet guessed he wouldn’t be able to drink it all unless he found a stepladder, either. 

That was no issue for Hornet, who effortlessly hauled herself up for a better look at some of the shinier tins. 

She was no expert, but it looked as if the pricier brands were kept higher up. 

“Drop me down a few of those, would you?” Lemm asked, “What you’ve got there was considered the drink of choice for _nobles_. Look, you can see how they worked that sense of exclusivity into the box; And, of course, the _price_.” 

She could see that. The tins were covered in intricate patterns, stamped into the metal itself, and seemed to be of a much finer make than the lower-shelf stuff she had pinched from Lemm’s own stash. 

In fact, the boxes seemed to be emblazoned with the company owner’s face, almost like a coat of arms in the midst of the decoration; No doubt an exercise in vanity from a _very_ rich bug. 

In fact… The face seemed to be a _familiar_ one. 

Hornet glanced down at Lemm, and back at the tin. 

The tea in her hands was _old_ , older than Lemm for sure, yet there was no difference. The bug in front of her could well have been the same one staring up from the ridges and swirls of the metal pattern. 

The resemblance was… _Remarkable_. Downright frightening. In fact, it was almost too remarkable _not_ to comment on, _yet..._

Well, she did _not_ want to deal with whatever conversation that would spawn, not in the slightest, she was far too tired and cold for… _This_. 

Whatever connection there was to be made, Lemm could make it in his own good time, unaided. 

Hornet grabbed a few differing tins of the ‘noble’s tea’ and handed it down, taking a few more for herself. 

Thankfully, Lemm said nothing; Instead thanking her almost politely and wandering off to raid some other part of the shop. 

With that out of the way, Hornet dug around some more. 

She’d get the flavours she preferred; Chamomile and the like, and maybe get adventurous with a few newer, bolder ones. 

She didn’t know who or _what_ Earl Grey was, but the little images of fruit stamped into the box sold it to her instantly. She also grabbed a few tins that claimed to improve health, because, Gods above, did her family need that.

When she got back, she would decant the ‘Lemm Flavoured’ tea into other containers so she didn’t have to see a facsimile of his face whenever she got thirsty. 

“Lemm, what’s the difference between _‘loose-leaf’_ tea and _‘bagged’_ tea?” 

“Loose leaf is what you stole from me.” He called, hardly looking up as he pulled yet _more_ tea from the shelves. “Bagged tea comes in a large set of little bags, so you don’t need to strain the leaves out before drinking.”

Hornet blinked. “...You’re supposed to strain it out?”

“Yes?” Lemm barked a laugh. “Have you been drinking tea leaves?”

“N... No, I’ve just been letting it all sink to the bottom of the teacup.” 

The Relic Seeker marched over, grabbing something from a shelf and offering it up to her. “Here. A tea strainer.” 

It was metal, the tea strainer, and, even indoors, the cold bit at her as she took it; Sending a shiver through her body as she remembered, _yes_ , she was still freezing. 

What a kind reminder. 

_“T-Thanks.”_ She shoved everything into her cloak, feeling all the tins, all the cold metal, pressing into her. “I think I’m d-done here. Let’s get you home. Now.”

_“ _‘Let’s get me home?’_ _ I’m not some doddering old bug, you know. I can handle going home by myself, but can _you_? You’re shaking like a leaf!”

_“ _I_ -I am n-n-not. _ _”_ Hornet dropped from the shelf, stumbling only slightly as she landed, only then realizing how _numb_ her legs were. “L- Let's go.”

* * *

Thankfully, Lemm’s shop wasn’t far. 

The cold wouldn’t have been so bad if she could walk at her own pace, but Lemm was painfully _slow_ , constantly stopping to check his footing, lest he slip on ice or frost.

The only thing that could have made it worse was the rain, but, thankfully, it had stopped. 

High above, Hornet could see millions of sharp, icy spikes; Frozen stalactites, or ‘icicles’, as Lemm called them, formed from the constantly flowing waters of the lake above. They were strange, foreign to her. Almost beautiful, truth be told, sharp, shimmering things that dangled high above them like suspended rainfall.

But they were still rather sharp. It would be very bad if they started to fall, and no doubt, if it ever warmed, they would; But Hornet did not intend to stick around long enough to see it happen.

As they reached the lift to his shop, Lemm stopped; Waving a hand at Hornet to stall her. “I can make it from here. You should go home now, before you freeze.” 

Sounding slightly smug, he pulled a slightly worn, grubby tin from his beard. "Unless… Would you like to come in for some tea?" 

The idea of sitting awkwardly in silence with Lemm, sipping his 'hard-earned' tea… Was worse than freezing. “I’ll p-pass on your offer. I’ve left T-T-Tiso and Ghost alone in the house with little t-to no supervision.”

Lemm shrugged, “I’d figure you’d do your best to get away from your crazy family, but what do I know?”

Hornet’s eyes narrowed. _“W-What do you mean by that.”_ She hissed, trying to sound intimidating despite her shivering.

“Oh, don’t pay attention to what I say. It just seems like you get rather… Annoyed by your family. Bothered by them.”

“Don’t assume you know m- my relationship with my family. I love them dearly.” She hissed, the chill in her voice comparable to the chill outside.

“I’m not suggesting that.” Lemm said, “You just always seem so tightly wound and stressed. Have you thought about taking a second to relax, even for one moment?”

"I don't _need_ to relax," Hornet muttered, "Nor do I have time for it." 

"Oh, don't give me that. Everyone has time for it." He waved the grubby tin about. "Why don't you take my offer? Just to warm up, at least. Anyway," His voice took a slightly smug tone once more. "This tea is _special_." 

If Hornet didn't know any better, she'd say the tin was one of the few she'd snatched; But, of course, that was impossible. Not only had Hollow placed them far out of his reach, but they were empty, and he'd no doubt've given her an earful if he knew they'd gone through the entire stash so quickly. 

On top of that... She didn't like his tone. Was he just trying to rub it in further? "No, thank you. I just want to go home." 

"Hm." He seemed disappointed. " Your loss." 

"Hardly. You'll be fine from here?" She asked, forcing the shiver from her voice. 

"... Yes, _I'll_ be fine." He stepped into the lift, still clinging to the dirty tin. "I suppose I'll be seeing you." 

He pulled the lever, the cogs jamming only slightly in the cold, and Hornet stood to see him off until he rose out of view. 

Then, once he could see her no more, she turned on her heel and _ran._

_Stars above, she was so cold._

_She couldn't feel her feet, she couldn't feel her fingers, and it felt as if her horns were seconds from falling_ ** _off._ **

She needed to get home. She needed to get home _fast._

From Lemm's window, she heard the metallic crack of a tin opening, edged with an odd, gritty quality, like thick dust underfoot. 

There was a moment of dead silence over the City, the lack of rain adding an eerie ambiance to the otherwise dreary architecture.

Then, echoing across the buildings… 

**_"IT'S DIRT???"_ **


End file.
